Tarasco Legion

The drizzle had stopped, but the long wind still blew. The warriors' feathered helmets swayed like trees in the forest, their stern blades pointing toward the sky.

Avet carefully identified the banners across the river, then suddenly smiled. "It's my old friend—the new Cazonci of Tarasco, King Zuangua, who took the throne two years ago."

"Zuangua?" Xolotl curiously watched the enemy commander surrounded by giant-axe warriors. "Is he formidable?"

"He was a fine commander, tenacious in battle and highly skilled at stirring his troops' morale." Avet recalled with a sigh.

"Two years ago, he had only just taken the throne. My elder brother, the former king Axayacatl, thought it was a good chance to campaign against Tarasco. So he levied thirty thousand warriors and seventy thousand Militia, invading the Tarasco Zitacuaro State from the Alliance's southern Latzico State."

"His health was already failing then, so he entrusted me with command of the hundred-thousand-strong army. Zuangua, newly made Cazonci, also mobilized a hundred thousand men and personally led them to meet us in battle. Two hundred thousand troops were crammed into the narrow stretch south of Toluca Mountain and north of the Balsas River. We fought bitterly for half a year, and blood stained every rise and valley of the plateau mountains."

"The Mexica army once gained the advantage. But the Tarasco relied on the mountains and rivers, stubbornly holding the two fortresses of Cutzamala and Tlalchapa. After several months, our edge gradually wore away, and the warriors became exhausted. Zuangua seized an opportunity in one great battle. Leading three thousand Copper Axe Guards, he struck at the two thousand Eagle Legion warriors locked in combat, along with several thousand warriors around them, and shattered our tactical core."

"I lost that battle." Avet sounded wistful. "The army retreated in haste. Four hundred Eagle nobles, more than three thousand warriors, and nearly twenty thousand Militia abandoned along the way were lost."

"We lost three Xiquipilli Legions in that battle. Of course, the Tarasco also lost a thousand Copper Axe Guards, along with eight thousand Militia expended in the fighting. It could only be called a costly victory for them. When I returned to the capital, I surrendered command of the army and took responsibility for the Alliance's intelligence and guard work. A few months later, my eldest brother Axayacatl passed away, and my brother Tizoc, who loved theology, succeeded him as the new Tlatoani."

Avet looked toward the Copper Axe Guard force on the opposite bank. There was remembrance in his gaze, thought as well, and a trace of regret usually buried deep within.

Xolotl studied the Copper Axe warriors with interest. They were powerfully built, with pointed Bronze Helmets on their heads and heavy bronze shoulder guards over their shoulders. They wore yellow Leather Armor and carried bronze battle axes as tall as a man. These two-handed battle axes could effectively split apart heavy wooden shields. Clearly, they had been designed specifically to counter the Aztec elite shield-bearing legions, especially Eagle Warriors carrying heavy shields.

There were roughly two thousand of these elite warriors. Their expressions were resolute, and they stood in solemn silence, their bodies filled with the beauty of strength and the sharpness of metal.

The youth observed them closely and felt that the Tarasco troops had begun to show some traits of ancient Greek legions. Bronze was used to forge helmets and weapons, though they clearly had not yet developed the technology for bronze armor.

"Battle-Axe Guard Battalion. Trump card. Two-handed battle-axe troops. Bronze Helmet, Leather Armor, Medium Armor. High morale, average discipline. Armor-piercing weapons, bonuses against shield troops. Excellent assault infantry."

Xolotl nodded. "This force poses a great threat to the Jaguar and Eagle Legions."

Avet smiled. "The Tarasco had no military system for cultivating veteran warriors on a large scale. They could only assemble a Copper Axe assault force like this to contend with our elite legions. Of course, we were unwilling to pit Noble Battle Groups against these metal warriors in a war of attrition. Training a Jaguar or Eagle Warrior capable in both attack and defense took at least twenty years. These metal warriors, meanwhile, only needed a few years of battle-axe assault training to take shape."

Xolotl strongly agreed. Jaguar and Eagle Warriors were like the Spartan warriors of ancient Greece. Their martial skill and physical strength had to be honed from childhood, then tempered into form through war. Their training cycle approached twenty years.

In Huaxia history, they would be like the Jurchen White Armor troops—high in both offense and defense, difficult to replenish, and usable only on crucial battlefields. It was not that they could not defeat the high-attack Battle-Axe Guards; they simply could not afford the losses.

After thinking for a moment, the youth smiled confidently. "Against shieldless infantry like this, our newly formed Longbow Guard can counter them perfectly!"

The commanders of both sides confirmed one another's identities from across the Great River. Then they stared at each other in silence for a long while before each returned to camp.

The next day was a rare clear one, morning light spilling through breaks in the clouds. Early in the morning, the Tarasco camp across the river boiled into activity. Eighty thousand troops marched out of camp in succession and formed a vast battle array along the southern bank of the Lerma River.

Avet also brought ten thousand of his directly commanded warriors to his side. Relying on the mountain stronghold behind them, they deployed across the hills on the northern bank of the Lerma River. The Beast Helmets of a thousand Jaguars stood in orderly ranks, radiating a terrifying, savage majesty.

Yet Xolotl knew clearly that the legions on both banks were not the true protagonists of this war. What would truly determine the course of the war were the fleets on both sides of the Great River—the thousands upon thousands of Canoes.

The protagonists remained hidden without making a move; the supporting cast took the stage first.

Xolotl looked at the Tarasco battle formation in the distance. Cold bronze gleams flashed again and again beneath the sunlight.

At its very center stood Tarasco's king and supreme commander, Zuangua, surrounded by two thousand Battle-Axe Guards. Beyond them were thirty thousand Tarasco warriors, an estimated twenty thousand of them directly under the king's command.

Most of these warriors wore feathered wooden helmets, while a few wore archaic Bronze Helmets. They wore yellow or green Leather Armor, and many had strings of gilded little stones around their necks, shimmering and flowing with light beneath the sun, dazzling to behold.

Xolotl examined them carefully and determined that they were scraps produced during the mining of patterned Copper Mine deposits. He had no idea what use there was in wearing them. Were they meant to blind the enemy?

Most Tarasco warriors held thick wooden shields in one hand and copper spears around one and a half meters long in the other. Their formation was somewhat noisy and far from orderly. Many Noble Warriors kept waving their Bronze Weapons at the Mexica Legion on the northern bank. A small number even beat upon costly copper shields, shouting challenges.

Judging from the number of copper shields, the youth concluded that Tarasco's bronze output was still limited.

"Tarasco Warrior Battalion. Elite. Spear-and-shield troops. Leather Armor, Medium Armor. High morale, poor discipline. Mainline melee infantry. Aside from the copper spears in their hands, Tarasco warriors truly could not compare to the Mexica Warriors who had fought year after year and received thorough training. Their discipline was clearly far inferior."

Beyond the thirty thousand warriors, Xolotl spotted two interesting new forces.

The troops on the left wore crude cloth garments and round cloth caps, gripping copper Spears around two and a half meters long with both hands. There were roughly five thousand of these spearmen. They stood silently, making little sound. They had roughly gathered into a square formation, and their ranks were actually neater than those of the Tarasco warriors.

"What is this force?" the youth asked curiously. At first glance, these spearmen resembled the beginnings of a Greek Spear Phalanx. But after examining their crude equipment more closely, they seemed more like Japan's Ashigaru armed with Maji Yari.

Avet glanced at the formation and smiled. "This is a new force the Tarasco put together. Its soldiers are mining laborers who dig Copper Mines, holding long spears and fighting in formation. When gathered together, they are somewhat useful. They can defeat Militia and even small groups of warriors. But if a large body of warriors charges them from the rear or flank, they will soon be unable to hold and scatter. Once scattered, they become much easier to handle. Harvesting them is as simple as snapping corn stalks in a field."

Xolotl nodded. This force's equipment was far too weak, and its martial skill and morale were insufficient. If they were given shields, armor, strict training, and formed into a Spear Phalanx, they would actually have considerable potential.

"Tarasco Spear Battalion. Ordinary. Spearmen. Cloth armor, no armor. Average morale, average discipline. Simple spear formation. Good Militia for holding the line."

The ability to organize mining laborers into a standardized force proved that Tarasco's mining industry had developed to a certain level. The urban economy had grown enough that a certain number of citizens and Artisans had emerged between the nobles and farmers. Like independent farmers, this class would provide the state with elite Militia—or Ashigaru.

"Look at the other side." Avet pointed toward the right, where another interesting new force stood.

This force also numbered around five thousand. Their weapons were utterly mixed—Stone Hammers, stone axes, Copper Spears, wooden shields, even Short Bows. Their equipment also varied widely. Most wore cloth garments, a few wore Leather Armor, and some even had feathered wooden helmets. These motley warriors were now shouting noisily toward the northern bank, and their morale seemed rather high.

"These are Tarasco's foreign mercenaries. Their origins are complicated; the Tarasco took them in and used them on the battlefield. Among them are unruly Chichimecs, displaced Otomi People, Toltec rebels with a blood feud against the Alliance, and even some warriors who had lost their lands. This force is a consumable with high morale."

Xolotl understood. Mercenaries—they were all born to be cannon fodder.

"Foreign mercenaries. Ordinary. Miscellaneous troops. Cloth armor, no armor. High morale, poor discipline. Excellent cannon fodder for the front line."

Farther beyond the Tarasco formation were Militia covering the hills and fields, troops Xolotl already knew well. These Militia still relied mainly on Stone Spears, with only a few carrying shields. They wore cloth garments or were simply bare-bodied, low in morale and without any formation to speak of. About one-eighth of them were Stone Throwers, barely qualifying as ranged troops.

There were a full forty thousand Militia. In any Alliance, they were versatile consumables—able to carry provisions, dig ditches, build camps, fill out battle lines, and wear down enemy warriors.

This was the Tarasco Legion: two thousand Copper Axe Guards as its core, thirty thousand warriors as its main force, with five thousand spearmen and five thousand foreign mercenaries as quality cannon fodder, and the largest contingent—forty thousand Militia—as ordinary cannon fodder.

The two armies faced each other across the river. The Mexica warriors sat quietly upon the hills, conserving their strength as they watched the bustling activity on the opposite bank.

The Tarasco army first spread into a semicircle, and the Imperial Guards and warriors sat down to rest. Then several hundred Militia stepped to the front of the formation and, under the direction of a dozen or so feather-crowned elders, built three enormous circular platforms several meters high and over ten meters across.

Finally, when The Sun at last rose into the center of the clouded sky, more than a hundred Priests draped in long feathers arrived wearing gourd necklaces. Carrying all manner of implements, they climbed the platforms and began a splendid performance beneath the gaze of a hundred thousand warriors on both banks.