[center][h1][color=SlateGray]The Battle of Kalendri, Southern Inbur[/color][/h1]

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[h2]Village of Agion Platanion, 4:30am[/h2]
“Coralie!  Coralie!” 

Coralie felt herself shaken awake.  She sat up, rubbing bleary eyes, blinking up at the familiar face of Momin Assinger, his features illuminated in the light of a candle-lantern, “Urgh… what is it?” she asked, as she struggled to put on some semblance of composure, “What time is it? I haven’t even heard a cock crow.”

“Half past four in the morning,” Momin replied without needing to consult his watch.  He stepped back respectfully, the light from his lantern casting shadows across the tent.  It was, by the standards of someone styling herself an Empress, not particularly grand: a simple camp bed, a chest for clothing, a chair and a collapsible table.  It was, however, private.

Coralie stood up, bare feet touching on the cold, lumpy carpet that barely disguised the dirt below.  She reached for a shawl she had over the back of a chair, draping it over her shoulders against the frigid night air, “So what’s happened?” she asked.

“The pickets report the Calarians are advancing from their camp to the east, no doubt hoping to catch us off guard at dawn,” Momin replied, matter-of-factly.

“Does Viryarus know?” Coralie asked.

Momin nodded, “It was his men that spotted the advance.”  It made sense.  Most of the Black Army were freshly raised troops – peasants drilled into some vague semblance of soldiers.  They would become a force to be reckoned with… given enough time, but for now, they were rough and unpolished.

“Alright, beat to quarter General Assinger,” she replied, rubbing at her eyes again, “If the enemy are so eager to attack before breakfast we should at least have the good manners to meet them.”


[h2]Between the Villages of Ahion Platanion and Kalendri, 6am – just after dawn.[/h2]
In the distance, in the dawn light, Coralie could see the gleam of pikes and the colours of the Calarian banners as they advanced towards the Allied lines, the sound of fife and drums echoing over the farmland.  The advance was orderly, precise and well drilled, dragoons and lancers on either wing.
  
To the North, Viryarus’ Imperial forces were advancing in parallel with her own with the intention of forming a line with the village of Kalendri in their centre.  The Black Army were lacking in Cavalry, though they had managed to put assemble a Squadron of dragoons since the last battle. “I thought we’d outnumber them,” she commented to Viryarus as she did her best to assess how many soldiers were advancing across the farmland towards them.  Viryarus had joined her on the small rise ahead of the troops.  It wasn’t much of a hill but was the best vantage they had to survey the flat, village dotted farmland where the two armies seemed destined to meet, “They look to have about as many men as us and more guns.”

The combined allied force was just over 15,000…

“They must have received reinforcements,” Viryarus commented with a slight shrug to indicate this had been, perhaps, to be expected, “They’ll be dragging behind the guns we abandoned at Hjodfelt.”  He paused before adding, “They use deeper formations than Imperial troops… or for that matter your own units.  They’re too deep to be efficient and make their units an easier target for cannon.”

Unlike Viryarus who wore a simple buff coat and hat, Coralie had donned a full suit of blacked plate.  It was heavy and she didn’t like it much, being more used to the decks of ships where wearing armour was a risibly bad idea, but she had been convinced by her Captains that she should wear adequate protection and black, after all, was her colour.

“That village over there, between our two armies? That’s to be the centre of our line?” Coralie pointed to a cluster of houses, smoke curling from the chimneys in the still, dawn air.

“Kalendri,” Viryarus confirmed, “Yes, it is.”

“I’ll dispatch a battalion to move on ahead take and hold it,” Coralie said, “I’m concerned we are not in position and it could be a problem if the Calarians get to it first.”

“Also, that manor to the South-West of your lines looks like a good spot to set up your dragoons,” Viryarus commented.

There was a flash in the distance, followed by another, then another.  A few moments later the flash was joined by the distinctive roar of cannons, “They’re firing on our men,” Coralie remarked.  The balls, thankfully, weren’t directed at the Commanders’ position on the hill.
“I had best ride back to my lines,” Viryarus doffed his hat politely, “God willing, I’ll see you once the battle is lost and won.”

[h2]South of Kalendri, 6:45am[/h2]
Coralie had joined her elite Iktani musketeers, held in reserve behind the main battle line, though she had stayed on horseback.  She stood up in her stirrups for a better look as a unit of Calarian dragoons swooped down on one of her forward batteries.  With the flat terrain it was difficult to find a good vantage point.  There was a ripple of gunfire from the nearby battalions and the Calarians fell back in disarray, dropping one of their colour standards in the chaos.

To one flank of the guns, a battalion of foot began to push forward, advancing towards the dragoons as they sought to reform in the fields between the two lines of infantry, “Order those men back into position!” she called to one of her dispatch riders, “Keep them in line!”
The rider tipped his hat, galloping off in the direction of the advancing battalion.  She watched for a moment.  It would be time before the rider reached them, a few minutes at least.  

She turned her spy glass to South.  She could see the flash of gunfire from the manor her dragoons had occupied, harassing a large body of Calarian lancers advancing on the flank; Viryarus' prediction of the usefulness of the manor had proved correct.  Her own, badly outnumbered, Black Riders advanced cautiously to meet them.

Abruptly the Black Riders charged, spurring horses forward with whoops and cheers, pistols held at the ready.  The Calarians surged forward to meet them.  There was the flash of pistols, then, moments later, the clash of steel and the screams and cries of the men and horses struck down.  Despite the numerical advantage of the Calarians, the heavily armoured Black Riders pushed forward, driving them back, though as they did, a second unit of Calarian cavalry swept past to the North, ignoring the melee as they closed on Coralie’s lines.

Coralie trained her spyglass on where they were headed, only to find the battalion that had been out of position before had wheeled and was now marching back towards her line, “That damned fool…” she growled, grinding her teeth as the inevitable unfolded before her.

It was too late to do anything.  The Calarian cavalry crashed into the formation’s rear, lances levelled before the fool of a Colonel had time to react.  In moments the men were running, leaving dead and wounded in the grass, streaming towards the gap they’d left in the Black lines.

She signalled to another rider, “Order Kadis’ battalion to advance to fill the gap.”

Losing soldiers unnecessarily was upsetting, but she had several battalions held in reserve, including her own Iktani musketeers.  This was still only the opening moves.  The next few hours would be a blood affair.


[h2]South of Kalendri, 7:30am[/h2]
“Forward men!” Coralie called to her musketeers.

The Calarian infantry had come within firing range half an hour earlier and the two lines had exchanged fire, rapidly cloaking the battlefield in smoke and making it even harder to discern what was going on.  So far the Battle had progressed reasonably well though it was still far from won and from what she could see of the exchange of fire between the infantry, her own troops were not getting the better of it.  The Calarian Cavalry had been routed to the South and, from what a runner from Viryaris had told her, the Imperial Cavalry had carried in the North as well, though her units in the centre were hard pressed.  Coralie had slowly fed in her reserves and, ss a battalion of foot wavered, ahead, the first men beginning to flee backwards as the officers did their futile best to keep them in line, Coralie realised her own Guard were the last at her disposal.  So into the breach they must go.

As fleeing men streamed around them, they marched forward into the acrid smoke of the battlefield, Coralie remaining on horseback on the flank, though a part of her itched to pick up a musket and join the firing line.  In the early part of the battle Black and Imperial batteries had shot ragged lines in the dense Calarian formations but the Calarian infantry had silenced two Black Batteries, while her own forces hadn’t come close enough to the Calarian guns to even fire a shot.

As they moved into position, Coralie’s guard were struck by a volley of fire from the front, bullets, zipping through the smoke to strike men down, including one man, including one no more than three feet away from her, “Form up!” Coralie called, “Fire by rank.”
And they did, with the front rank taking position to fire back on the Calarians who seemed little more than shadows in the smoke before dropping back to let another man take their place.

Coralie watched, unsheathing her sword, gritting her teeth again, ready for the Calarians to surge forward.  Her heart beat wildly in her chest.  It was like waiting to board a ship, with the bullets zipping past and the smoke making it impossible to properly see what you were doing.  No control over whether one of the bullets hit you or not.  More of her men went down and the practiced, drilled precision began to break down just a little, one man fired too early.  Another froze in place, obstructing the shooter trying to step up.  A cannon ball crashed through their rank, taking down a whole file of men.

Somewhere in the chaos, an Imperial rider managed to find her, reigning in his frothing horse alongside Coralie, “The Calarians have broken the line North of the village!” he declared without any ceremony.

Coralie turned her eye away from the exchange of fire, “My reserves are all deployed…” she trailed off, thinking for a moment, then motioned to two of her message riders, “You two, with me.  Assinger, take command of the men here!”

As they group rode out from the carnage, Coralie’s ears still ringing, the air began to clear a little.  She spurred her horse East, away from the fighting and North, towards the smoke-wreathed houses of Kalendri, “It looks like Mousikou’s men are holding.”

Colonel Mousikou had led a green unit to hold the village.  It was a relief he was still here.  She had half expected the Calarians to dislodge him by now, but he hadn’t and from her position she could see him delivering fire into the flank of the Calarian forces trying to split the Allied armies.

Coralie paused.  She saw some Imperial troops begin to fall back as they threatened to be encircled.  But all her nearby units were engaged.  What could she do?

Almost as an answer to prayer she saw one of the Calarian units begin to fall back.  Not in a disorderly route, but an orderly withdrawal, slowly stepping back, away from the village.  Over the cacophony of battle she could distantly here the Calarian fifers and drummers sounding out the retreat.

“They’re pulling back,” one of her runners commented, “Should I order the men to give chase?”

Coralie paused, then shook her head.  There were still plenty of Calarian units in good order.  Her infantry were, for the most part, exhausted and her cavalry were few in number, “No, let them leave.” 
 
The day, it seemed was theirs.

[h2]The Aftermath[/h2]
While the Calarians had managed to push a gap between the Allied armies, on the North and South flanks their cavalry had been routed and the troops on the both wings had begum to roll up the Calarian line with Imperial Cavalry threatening their rear.  Seeing the danger, General Caldarini, who was leading their forces, had tactfully ordered a withdrawal.

Novertheless, of an original force of over 16,000, he had left over 2,300 dead on the field with a further 3,700 having surrendered to the Alliance.  The worst casualties were in the infantry regiments on the Calarian flanks.  The Allies, originally fielding a slightly smaller force of 15,400, had lost just over 700 men killed or missing with a further 1,200 wounded.  The Battle of Kalendri had been the largest battle of the war to date and had, for this season at least, put an end to Calarian invasion plans.  With the agreement between Viryarus and D’Ambois, the Black Army had been granted a firm foothold in Southern Inbur.

However, nobody, least of all Coralie, was expected Ariana’s Red Army to march against her…