Capítulo 1508: Chapter 56: Siege (26)
The horse-tail grenades are shaped like goose eggs, or like drops of water, with one end pointed and the other round. The round end is not only the pouring nozzle but also the ignition point.
They’re called horse-tail grenades because on the pointed end, there’s an extra small pull ring. A hemp rope can be attached, making it look much like a ponytail.
At this moment, Tamas was holding the body of the grenade with his left hand, while gripping the end of the “horse-tail” with his right.
He nodded at Peter Buniel, who skillfully lit the fuse with a fire striker.
Tamas immediately stood up from the trench and swung his arm, as if using a stone sling, whirling the horse-tail grenade above his head three times until the heavy iron lump was fully powered, starting to make a whooshing sound.
Tamas let go.
The horse-tail grenade, with a hissing fuse, blended into the night as it flew towards the United Provincials’ position on the high ground.
He didn’t even have to ask before a company commander handed him the next grenade.
The horse-tail grenades from the Revodan Armory were an upgraded version, iterating on already improved iron-shell grenades.
Original iron-shell grenades had nets because they were too heavy to throw far without a sling-like casting method.
Winters had used old-style grenades many times on the Taniria Islands, finding them inconvenient to carry and use. On the battlefield, there wasn’t even room to extend your arms at times, often necessitating a two-handed throw.
When he took charge, he demanded the ordnance department improve the old-style grenades.
Following His Excellency Montaigne’s advice, Berlion reduced the size of the grenades and compensated for decreased explosive content by making the iron shell thinner.
That’s why, during the Battle of River Valley Village, the new grenades could be thrown by hand alone.
The horse-tail grenades, however, brought back the “tail” cut from the old grenades.
Why?
Of course, to throw it farther.
As Tamas hurled a second horse-tail grenade towards the breastwork on the high slope, a dull explosion sounded on the United Provincials’ position, unlike a gunshot or cannon fire, spreading in all directions.
This explosion was like opening a sealed door, releasing some terrifying thing, with similar explosion sounds continuously ringing on the high ground, jolting both sides of the conflict, uncertain about what had just happened.
But Tamas didn’t spare a thought for assessing the effect of the horse-tail grenades; he focused solely on swinging the hemp rope, with not even the thought of “throwing as many grenades behind the breastwork as possible in the shortest time” in his mind.
The sling-like casting method made the horse-tail grenades extremely dangerous for both user and target.
There’s only a fleeting moment for casting; too late and the grenade would land heavenward, too early and it would end up at your feet, wait too long and it could explode you.
Tamas concentrated fully on capturing the moment to throw, as did the other warriors in the trench.
He didn’t know how many horse-tail grenades he’d thrown, only suddenly realizing the ones by his side were gone.
Tamas turned to look at the company commander.
Peter Buniel wiped his face, leaving two black ash lines across his cheekbones.
“Out of grenades,” Peter Buniel said.
Without a word, Tamas grabbed a dagger taken from an enemy and jumped out of the trench, charging up the high ground.
Peter Buniel was shocked, instinctively reaching for the battalion commander’s clothes but missing, his mouth opened to shout something but clamped shut the next second, he made no sound, climbing out of the trench with hands and feet, following closely.
Seeing this, the other soldiers in the trench were first startled, then quickly grabbed their weapons, following the battalion commander and the company commander, rushing towards the United Provincials’ position.
No whistles, no drums, no battle cries, only footsteps and heavy breathing. Tamas led his men to silently “creep” up the high ground in their opponents’ style.
Behind the breastwork, chaos reigned.
The breathe of Hell filled the United Provincials’ position, with the smoke from the dense explosions of horse-tail grenades thicker than the alchemical smoke the United Provincials themselves released.
A United Provincial lay by the breastwork, arms and legs still attached, but his eyes, nose, and ears were all bleeding, with rapidly expanding red patches on his clothes.
A matchlock gun leaned weakly against his knee, with an alarming shrapnel embedded in the stock.
The United Provincial, seeing Tamas, mistook him for an ally, struggling to raise his head, a constant “gurgling” bubbling noise coming from his throat, as if asking Tamas for help.
Seeing the same pale, youthful face, Tamas momentarily saw Gosha’s face instead.
But Gosha was already dead.
Tamas bit his teeth, thrusting the dagger into the United Provincial’s chest.
Did he end his suffering? Or take his life?
Tamas did not know, nor did he care anymore.
Before the United Provincials’ reinforcements arrived, Tamas led his men in quickly cleaning up the high and commanding position where they collected usable firearms and ammunition, slanting leaden rain onto the small fortification under their control.
Before Tamas and his men could turn their guns to fire on the United Provincials attacking their own fortifications, the United Provincials on the riverbank had already noticed the anomaly and withdrew from battle.
A small team of United Provincials quickly regrouped, rushing towards Tamas’ position.