This article continues the story of my participation, as Theoderic the Visigoth, in our editor's "Justinian's Wars" campaign. It is the 6th Century A.D., and the Emperor of the Eastern Roman Empire has dreams of reviving the glory of Rome. However, numerous "Barbarian" kingdoms have ruled the Western Mediterranean for generations, and as witnessed so far, they have no desire to relinquish power to the effeminate Emperor of the East.

The Rules

The rules of "Justinian's Wars" are streamlined. Europe, and all the territories bordering the Mediterranean, have been divided into historical provinces over which the kingdoms fight for control. Movement is by single provinces or larger geographical sea areas. Taxes, 1 talent per province, are collected after the fall season turn, and can be used to raise levies for defense, bribe neutral countries or a host of other useful purposes.

The battles are fought using DBA with modifications that includes larger armies and accurately revised army lists. The Generals, and there is always at least one per province, can enlarge their army through success in battle, while defeat will throw them out of the province in disarray, unable to fight for another season or two.

My own army, the Spanish Visigoths, is a real mix of troop types. Originally, the Visigoths fought as a mass of furry-footed barbarians. The Nobility has, however, taken to fighting mounted, while the traditional warbands, wary of the rough terrain of their new Iberian home, have been supplemented by excellent light infantry and skirmishers. For those familiar with DBA, the army I have fought the vast majority of my battles with is composed of 9 elements of Cavalry, 6 Warbands, 4 Psiloi (that I refer to as skirmishers), and lastly 2 elements of Auxilia or light infantry.

The Saga Continues

The first year of the campaign, I played the first three seasons, and managed to wrest control of the whole Iberian peninsula from the barbaric Suevi, while bribing the Basques into a close alliance. I then expanded eastward by conquering the Frankish province of Aquitania. The Franks, having taken a real beating that Fall, entertained suggestions of peace, and I accepted. Both of us then launched invasions into neighboring Burgundian provinces.

The Franks, before the ink on the treaty had even dried, invaded Aquitania during the winter and took back their lost province. It had been rightfully theirs, before my coronation, but as it hung dangerously close to my territories along the Mediterranean and was crucial to consolidating and bolstering my eastward expansion, I had taken it. I had assumed retaining it was the compensation for halting my war with the Franks, as its return was never discussed during our treaty negotiations. I was annoyed but not angered, but all the same decided to leave my peaceful winter retreat to order the armies to march again come Spring.

An Ally of an Enemy is an Enemy all the Same

The following season our emissaries eyed each other suspiciously as we anxiously awaited the other's next move. Still hoping for peace, I did not react by a direct invasion of Frankish lands, but planned a bold and daring (stupid, that is) invasion of an ally of theirs, in the hopes of sending them a chilling warning. The Bretons, clinging to the rocky shore of Western Gaul, are a fiercely independent people that necessity, however, had forced into cordial relations with their stronger Frankish neighbors. Conquering and occupying this province would put me on the flank of three weak Frankish provinces, while depriving them of a very useful ally.

Deodoric cursed me as he stepped aboard ship, for he would have no chance of retreating if beaten. "Then do not lose!" I replied and sent him on his way. As they sailed north towards Brittany, strange sails were spotted along the coast, but our fleet was manned by hired mercenaries and simply steered clear. That fleet was a Frankish army, under their toughest warlord Dagobert, and it was sailing south towards the Iberian peninsula. Acting on the principle that the best defense is an active offense, the Franks decided to take the war to my homeland, with the intention of drawing my attention away from Gaul -- and it worked.

A Frankish Warlord Invades

Aroldoric hastily scraped up reserves and marched out to meet the Franks. Once again, the cavalry and light troops took to the flanks while the warbands anchored the center. The Franks formed one massive shieldwall and started adeliberate advance across the open terrain. Aroldoric's cavalry and light troops on the right flank outnumbered their opponents and quickly destroyed or pushed them back, breaking open the left Frankish flank. They immediately began streaming towards the enemy camp and the flank and rear of the center shieldwall.

On the left flank, though, Aroldoric floundered ineffectively, while the warbands in the center gaped wide-eyed at the mass of wild Frankish warriors thundering towards them. When the Franks did crash into the weakened center, they shoved it back mercilessly, killing many in the process and obliterating any cohesion. Aroldoric continued floundering on the left flank, while the center was losing heavily. The light troops from the victorious right flank did manage to assault and plunder the Frankish camp, nearly breaking their army. However, in the center, the Franks finally overwhelmed the few remaining warbands, sending Aroldoric steaming from the field.

The Franks were on the Peninsula in force, and nothing but weak untried warlords stood in their way of rolling on into the lightly defended heartland of my realm.

The Breton Gamble

Deodoric landed in Brittany as planned, but the unloading was ponderously slow, and as soon as the last of the hired ships departed, the Bretons marched confidently to confront my sea-borne invaders. Deodoric assembled all of his cavalry on the right flank across from a low hill that dominated the right center of the battlefield, while his warbands held the center with light troops and one lone troop of cavalry flung out past the wooded left flank.

The Bretons, lead by the redoubtable Mikus De Bellis Demanus (the campaign coordinator and DBA champ of Cold Wars), countered by moving his cavalry with parade ground precision to face Deodoric's cavalry, while the Breton light cavalry extended this flank even further. The Breton spearmen formed a stout shieldwall across from our warbands, while their skirmishers occupied the wooded right flank ready to face our light troops.

The Bretons charged uphill as their light cavalry maneuvered towards the vulnerable flank. The cavalry lines thundered into each other, with the hill providing just enough extra impetus to help the Visigoths to destroy a troop of Bretons. Deodoric continued a general advance forward with the whole of his army while the Bretons managed to get their light cavalry on the flank of the hill. The cavalry battle was a swirling and frightening affair, with the Bretons chewing up the exposed right flank while being pushed around dangerously in the center. More of our cavalry fell to the flanking Breton light cavalry, but our warbands in the center pushed on towards the spear, bringing along a few cavalry from a victorious downhill countercharge. Then, the Breton cavalry stumbled, strung out all over the hill they could not reform into a solid line for another grand charge, while Deodoric was able to reform a smaller but solid line across from them.

The battle ended quickly. With cavalry on the flank for support, the Visigothic warbands, usually the fodder of most of their battles, smashed into the Breton shieldwall and annihilated it, while the light troops simply overwhelmed the few Breton skirmishers in the woods. It was a pity, I had admired the Bretons, and had circumstances been different I would have welcomed them as faithful allies. "One should choose their friends more carefully" is all the word I sent to my new subjects.

A Pict in King Theoderics Court

The summer season I was preoccupied with affairs of the state. While plundering the Breton capitol, Deodoric stumbled upon some very odd treasures covered with runes and strange geometric designs. An Irish monk explained that these had been brought over from Britain during the great exodus, and were some royal treasures of the Picts, a fierce tribe inhabiting the northern wild lands of Britain. These warriors are one of the Briton's greatest enemies, so to add insult to injury, Deodoric forced a delegation to return the treasure to their owners.

Ecstatic, the Picts sent a delegation to our the capitol, arriving from the sea in small rough boats -- made from the hides of cows, so I was told! A great feast was held at which time I told the Pictish Prince Crom of my troubles with the invading Frankish horde to my North. Having surveyed my army, he commented, "You fight in a style not unlike ours" and offered to go to the aid of my general facing this host.

Euderic, an untried young warrior was amazed at the lessons he learned from this rough and grizzled Pictish barbarian. Having fought against the shieldwall of the Saxons in his homeland, the Pict advised Euderic to hold back his own foot troops and simply harass the enemy on the flanks with cavalry and skirmishers. The immense Frankish host, swelled to even greater numbers due to the success of their warlord, rumbled onto the battlefield. Euderic desperately wanted to send his own warbands from their hilltop position to confront the Franks, but Crom quelled Euderic's anxiety and sent forth the cavalry and skirmishers. Striking hard when the Frankish line was in shambles, and then quickly falling away when they reformed, Euderic's army, under the guidance of the Pict, simply wore down and chewed apart the Frankish line till they broke and ran.

(Confused? Actually, I was busy preparing to host a large Dark Ages battle that evening so Mike's friend Jason, who played the Picts in another campaign, took the field and won victory for me.)

A Visigothic Rampage

Three times the Franks had attacked and three times I had hoped we could come to an understanding. Now, they would die! I sent emissaries to the Basques, whose coffers, one may remember, I had filled to overflowing with gold to gain their allegiance. It was time they prove their allegiance, and so I instructed King Andaronix to attack the defeated Dagobert and throw him into the sea. "Do this and I will grant you the lands you conquer and eternal peace between our realms," I pledged.

Then I dug even deeper into the coffers and found the money and supplies to send forth both Deodoric and old, battle-scarred Vigdonic against the Frankish heartland. The Franks depleted their coffers and would meet two of my armies on even terms, while slightly outnumber the invading Basques. This time, I would personally accompany every invading army. "Conquer or Die" was our battle cry that Autumn -- and a glorious rampage it would be!

A Flank, A River, and a Victory

Fresh from conquering Brittany, and feeling a bit hemmed in, Deodoric was more than happy to strike out against the Franks. His enemy would be none other than Clovis, and their battle would be the strangest one yet. Clovis built his fortified camp on the far left flank behind a river that ran directly across the battlefield from this flank. This river meandered to about the middle of the battlefield before turning north and exiting in the middle of the open plains where my army was encamped.

Deodoric devised a risky plan, and divided his army into three major commands. He and all of the cavalry would follow along the left bank of the river so it could reach the Frankish camp without having to cross the waters. The skirmishers advanced along the right bank of the river and would attempt to cross directly in front of the Frankish camp. Finally, the warbands would flank march far to the right and attempt to enter immediately on right flank almost within charging distance of the Frankish camp.

Clovis formed two shieldwalls, one facing towards my army and in close marching distance of the rivers edge. The other shieldwall angled back to form a square surrounding his fort. His two Noble cavalry and some skirmishers were nowhere to be seen.

Our skirmishers advanced to the river's edge, facing one Frankish shieldwall, while Deodoric and all of the cavalry rounded the bend of the river to line up across the deep center of the battlefield to face the other wall of Franks. The warbands were due to arrive on their flank march, but had stumbled into a small force of flanking Frankish Noble cavalry and skirmishers. Outnumbering them, we drove them back, forcing them to fall back and deploy behind their camp and not on the flank. Deodoric then prudently redirected the flank attack to arrive far shorter than planned, actually in front of, and not behind, the river so as to join up with the skirmishers and light infantry. Both generals then tried to sort out their mess. Deodoric continued advancing with the cavalry, while trying to push skirmishers across the river. The Franks moved up to defend the river edge and sent skirmishers to contest the river crossing.

The Achilles heel of the Frankish army would be the hinge between the two shieldwalls, and this is where the skirmishers crossed. The Franks rushed up their own skirmishers to plug this gap, while their heavy horse followed behind, and they did succeed in pushing the skirmish column back. Then Deodoric, with the cavalry deployed beyond both flanks of the shieldwall, charged forward. Meanwhile, more of our skirmishers pushed across the river.

The Frankish shieldwall, as usual, lost on the flanks but did crush a few troops of cavalry in the center. With the flank of the shieldwall covering the Achilles heel gap broken, the Franks could only plug it haphazardly. Soon, it was over. The victorious Visigothic cavalry and skirmishers surrounded and annihilated the disorganized and broken stopgap troops. It was a Decisive Victory that effectively cut the Frankish Kingdom in half.

"A Flank, a Flank, God how I love an exposed Frankish Flank"

Vigdonic, my grizzled, battle-scarred, and most successful general to date, would be returning once again to fight for Aquitania against the Franks. The battlefield was a series of low rolling hills stretching across the center from one flank to the other, with only one small valley in the center. Vigdonic's scouts reported breathlessly that the Franks had deployed in a long, unsupported line with their two troops of Noble cavalry and some skirmishers on their far left flank, while only a few skirmishers and strung-out warbands held their right flank.

Vigdonic then deployed all but three cavalry to his left flank along with a swarm of light infantry and skirmishers, while three cavalry and some skirmishers deployed to the right to oppose and outnumber the Frankish threat there. The warbands, as usual, held the center.

"Charge, do not look back," Vigdonic shouted, "Conquer or Die!" Vigdonic rushed his whole left flank of skirmishers and cavalry as fast as possible across the hills and into the weak Frankish flank. The rest of the army also moved deliberately -- if a little more slowly -- forward, just enough to pin the rest of the Franks. The Cavalry smashed home while the skirmishers rolled up the flank. The whole right wing of the Frankish army vanished. A few of our troops did pursue too far and fell to the last dying gasps of a noble foe, but it was over quickly. Vigdonic, bold and brave, but never very eloquent, simply remarked, "A flank, a flank -- God, how I love an exposed Frankish flank!" Another Decisive Victory to fill my coffers, and the Frankish kingdom was now nearly reduced to half of its original size.

A Basque "Foot Cavalry" Bloodbath

Saddle-sore and tired, but elated at the run of battles so far, I trudged along well-worn mountain paths to the capital of my Basque allies. King Andaronix and I wasted no time and quickly fell in to discuss how best to take on the large Frankish host we were about to face. The Basques, living in their mountain fastness, have no use for cavalry troops. What they do have, though, is an abundance of skirmishers, light infantry and fierce warbands. Knowing that we would be outnumbered, it seemed our best hope was to counter the Frankish warbands with a swarm of light infantry and skirmishers, leaving behind our outnumbered warbands to guard the mountain passes we would most likely be retreating through.

We had no choice but to leave the mountains and cross over onto the open plains. Skirmishers ran along the wooded terrain to the left, while our right flank hung precariously in the open. Not far into the enemy territory we found the Franks drawn up in their familiar long shieldwall. I gasped when I saw the banner of their general! For Dagobert had taken ill, and had summoned the redoubtable Count of the Breton March, Mikus De Bellis Demanus, to lead his host. He had thinned the customarily deep Frankish shieldwall, alternating the warbands one, then two units deep, so as to cover as much of the open ground as our spread out light infantry did. The few Frankish skirmishers covered the woods on their right, while the Noble Cavalry were poised menacingly on the open left.

Andaronix let loose a cry and the Basque skirmishers and light troops on the weighted left flank and woods broke into a sprint while the right flank staggered into a refused position. The Franks likewise rushed forward at full speed trying to pin our troops and push the Noble Cavalry on and behind our right flank.

Thank the heavens I made the Basques allies as they are deadly! Running at full tilt, they hurl a shower of javelins just prior to an ear-splitting impact. The Franks, obviously unused to their thinned formation, recoiled from this thundering "foot cavalry charge" with a few warbands simply evaporating in a mist of red and pink. The Basques on the wooded left flank fell upon the outnumbered Frankish slings and bows, but could not dislodge them.

Mikus is a tough opponent and recovered quickly, filling in gaps and pushing forward. He was harassed by skirmishers and could not quite yet close in for a kill against our weak right flank. Sensing a chance of victory, the Basques on the stronger left flank broke formation and wheeled onto the exposed flanks of the disordered Frankish warbands. And instead of going to the aid of the exposed right flank that was about to be crushed by the imminent Noble Frank cavalry charge, Andaronix decided to go for kills and surrounded the stubborn Frankish skirmishers holding out in the woods. Once again the Frankish skirmishers threw back an overwhelming onslaught.

Then the Frankish cavalry finally hit home and soon the Basques were dying faster than the Franks. Once again, the outflanked and outnumbered Frankish bows and slings, heroic warriors this day, held out against overwhelming odds, while more and more Basques were trampled under thundering hooves.

Andaronix and I tipped our banners to Mikus, and so he did likewise, for this was truly a battle for the Bards. Both armies should have routed by now, but the Basques, having slaughtered so many hated Franks this day, simply would not break. The Basques made one last final lunge, another mad "foot cavalry charge" and finally the Franks broke.

A Gothic Empire

Autumn has turned to Winter, a bountiful harvest has been collected and the coffers are full of plunder. I am tempted, once again, to retire to my winter palace on the sunny shores of the Mediterranean. However, as I gaze at the map of my domain and talk with traveling merchants, they tell of a world in flames. The Vandals, never allies, but with whom I have always been cordial with, are reeling from a dual Byzantine onslaught. The Slavs have utterly destroyed the Saxons, Huns run rampant in the East, while word reached court that our cousins, the Ostrogoths, had actually crossed into our kingdom and only retreated to face a Vandal invasion of their own lands. I am done with conquest, though I fear that was the easy part. My stumbling to victory must now become much more than a bumbling to defense!

A Visigothic Saga Part Three: 'The Evil Empire'.