"...As revenue from the provinces sailed into calm waters of the harbor of Constantinople, the Emperor Justinian smiled, pleased with the fruits of this year's labor. Cooperation between his generals, Belisarius and Narses, were making inroads on the upstart Vandal kingdom. Far to the east, along shores pounded by the stormy Atlantic, tears streaked the faces of the Frankish refugees, driven from their homes by Visigothic invaders. Autumn was a season of disaster, with more than half of the kingdom's territory lost. The rest of the Mediterranean world was relatively quiet, with only a border skirmish fought between the Slavs and Gepids..."
Rough Landfall
The feared Vandal fleet took to the seas, only to find a rough crossing in its strike at Egyptus. Arriving green-faced, the army of Gunderic was quickly set upon by Narses' lieutenant, Martinus. The wily Gunderic concocted a master flank march, though, which descended upon the undermanned Byzantine right flank. However, Gunderic's riders and horses were still wobbly from the pitching and rolling upon the seas, for their charge was weak, and easily thrust back. With less than half of their opponent's numbers in that sector, the Byzantines routed the Vandal horsemen with every charge. Despite Gunderic's efforts, the army fled, with the Byzantine pursuit too close for return to the ships. Those that did not surrender were slain to a man, their general included.
"Carthage must be destroyed!"
When word arrived at the Vandal capital of the loss of an entire army in Egyptus, the king recalled the army of Heleric, which was besieging Rome. Rumor was that Belisarius was marching upon the city. Before long, its truth was seen, and the two armies squared off within view from the walls of Carthage. Both armies sent strong forces to attack their opponent's left wing. Heleric's thrust struck air, though, as Belisarius slowly folded his left in on his center. The Byzantine right pierced the Vandal left, though, driving through the army like a lance thrust. As the inhabitants of Carthage watched in disbelief, the army collapsed. Horseman fled through the dust clouds, seeking refuge within the walls. Their numbers helped man the ramparts, though. The ensuing Byzantine siege failed to capture the city.
The Master Surgeon
Many leagues to the south, Belisarius' rival, Narses, was marching west into the hills of Tingintania. The Vandals, who had put down a Berber revolt in summer, collected their scattered garrisons again and met them in the rolling hills. The warlord Gelimer bunched his troops up on the wings, leaving the center thin, which faced the dangerous Byzantine spear phalanx. Narses recognized the threat to his flanks. His staff of couriers raced back and forth across the battlefield, adjusting the position of this body of troops, realigning that. Gelimer was less experienced in command, and though his horsemen broke through on the right, they were unable to exploit it. Narses wielded his army like a surgeon, cutting the Vandals here, probing here, shoving there. The Byzantines seemed to be everywhere at once. Gelimer's attack was blunted, and his men forced back. When the army's bleeding grew too great, the warlord ordered a retreat northwards, into the mountains of Mauretania, leaving Tingintania to Narses.
Rome Relieved
Sent to replace the army of Heleric, who had been recalled to defend Carthage, Gaeseric and his troops were new to Italy. The fruitful countryside seemed like a paradise after the North African summer. The siege duty outside the walls of Rome was uneventful, as the Vandals simply waited for the garrison to starve. So, they were stunned when word raced through the camp -- form up for battle! The Ostrogothic warleader Totila was charging south to relieve Rome. Though they outnumbered the Ostrogoths, Gaeseric's Vandals never recovered from their shock. They were routed and sent fleeing south into Calabria. Rome was safe, and the Ostrogothic kingdom rejoiced. With their bitter war against the Byzantines raging, the Ostrogoth's hoped the Vandals would leave Italy alone for now.
A Lone Ray of Sunshine
The news from all quarters was bad, the warlord Ammatas admitted to his men. Carthage was besieged, the province they had just marched from was lost, and even tidings from Italy were ill. However, they had two choices. One, was to lose heart and become slaves of the decadent Byzantines. The other was to put spurs to their spirit, and gallop to the succor of their people. Retake the province of Tripolitania, and the Byzantine general Belisarius would be dangerously isolated. Ammatas' men cheered as they rode into battle against the Byzantines. In a hard-fought struggle, that saw both sides have victory within grasp, the Vandal grip proved stronger. By sheer dent of will, they drove their enemy from the field. Tripolitania was liberated, and one bright ray of Autumn sun shone of the Vandal kingdom.
The Hills Are Alive
The Frankish general Dagobert shook his head in wonderment. Where were all these hill tribesmen coming from? Had the entire Basque lands emptied out, eager to drive them into the sea to earn their tainted Visigothic silver? Dagobert had heard these tribal warriors were dangerous -- equally willing to overrun you with a fierce charge as to stand off and destroy you with javelins. He deployed his army in alternating bands of normal and double depth. This kept his line from being much shorter than that of the enemy. He counted on his light troops to hold the Basques on the right, in the woods, while his small force of mounted nobles encircled the enemy on the left. The battle soon split into two sections, with the Basques shoving his men back on the right, while the rest of the Frankish warband and cavalry did the same to them on the left. It became an endurance contest as losses rose on both sides. Finally, the Frankish light troops, who had heroically held off double their number on the right, broke and ran. The Basques burst out of the forest. The Frankish warbands on the right wavered and began to retreat. Dagobert's men could find no refuge on the Iberian coast, though, and to a man were hunted down and slain or enslaved.
Burned Villages, Broken Shieldwalls
The Visigothic warlord Vigdonic rode down the ranks of his men, cursing. "These Franks are snakes, treachery drips from their lying mouths like venom! The sooner we exterminate them, the better!" The invasion of Aquitania had gone well, so far. The Visigoths had burned a number of villages, and now had located the army of the Frankish warlord Buccelin. Vigdonic knew if he defeated Buccelin, the province (and its harvest that stood ripe in the fields), was theirs. He weighted his mounted troops heaviest on the left, knowing in the center, the doughty Frankish warbands would probably drive them back. The battle progressed as he'd planned, and soon the Frankish flank was turned. Shieldwalls buckled as they were hit from front and side. Before long, Buccelin's army was streaming northwards in retreat. When it met other Visigoths, belonging to the invading army of Deodoric, the army disintegrated. Some fled to the forests, others dispersing to their homes, hoping to be passed by unnoticed. Aquitania had fallen, and a second Frankish army had been destroyed.
A Bitter Harvest
The sound of weeping from the wagons and tents weighed heavily on Clovis' heart. The camp followers and wives of his warriors stumbled about with tear-streaked faces, repeating the news of the fall of Dagobert and the slaughter in Aquitania. Was the kingdom at an end? Clovis did all he could. He had raised many levies and entrenched his army across from a river. Let the Visigoths try to come get them! Veteran, gray-haired Deodoric and his Visigoths did just that, though. They herded the Frankish battleline into a smaller and smaller space, leaving them no route for retreat. When Clovis' warriors were jammed together so close they barely had room to swing their weapons, the Visigoths charged. The uneven Frankish shieldwall was ruptured, and Clovis' army was stampeded. The battered survivors stumbled northeast into Lugdunensis, one of the two remaining Frankish provinces. The harvest festivals in that province saw little joy, as the kingdom sank to its lowest ebb.
The Horns of the Huntsmen
With the German conquests of Spring and Summer still to digest, the Slavic nation lolled in relative inactivity. Zwentibald led a border raid against his enemies, the Gepids, in the plains of Moesia. The Gepid leader Elemendus laughed as he saw the lightly-armed Slavic infantry leave their forests and march out onto the rolling plains. As a lark, he grabbed his herald's horn and sounded the "Tut-ta-ta-tut!" of the huntsmen when he spots a deer. Laughter broke out in the ranks as the Gepid cavalry spurred forward. Elemendus timed it so they seized the ridgetops just as the Slavs were struggling uphill. Galloping downward they burst through the Slavic lines. In an amazingly short time, Zwentibald's army was fleeing, pursued all the way by the sound of Gepid horns.
The Power of Gold
Far to the east, another army of cavalry was on the move. The Hunnic
leader, Sandal, bribed by the Slavs with chests of looted Saxon gold, was
stalking the army of Belisarius' lieutenant, Maurice. Of course, Sandal
gladly took the Slavic pay to do something he wanted to do anyway -- retake
the province of Scythia. On the other hand, Maurice had heard rumor of Sandal's
crushing of a Persian invasion last season, so was wary. Protecting his
flanks, he gave the Hunnic light cavalry no room to encircle or outflank
him. They were forced into meeting his heavier-armed cavalry straight-on.
Lacking armor for the most part, the Hunnic tribesmen were not equipped
for this type of fighting. Maurice's army simply shoved them across the
battlefield, until they broke under the constant, controlled attacks. With
Constantinople only a week or so away by fast courier, Maurice made sure
that his news of victory was rushed to the emperor's ears. Soon, one day,
perhaps his power would rival that of his patron, Belisarius...