Chapter 230: Siege of Ryazan

The army broke camp before the sun reached the forest. They moved north along the same road the Voronezh survivors had taken the previous night.

The signs of that retreat were easy to follow. Mud had been churned by hurried traffic, abandoned equipment lay scattered along the route. A saddlebag sat split open beside the road, near it a broken spear shaft still stood upright in the grass where someone had dropped it while fleeing.

North of Voronezh lay the lands of the Ryazan principality. Farms and villages sat behind the forest, spring fields remained unworked. Some farmsteads still had smoke rising from their hearths, but no people appeared in the yards or at the doors.

Everyone between Voronezh and the city had either fled or taken shelter behind whatever they could find. The survivors had carried the warning ahead of the army.

The Jochid force maintained its marching pace and did not stop to investigate any of it.

When the army finally reached the Oka river, the vanguard and the engineer corps waited from them near the bank.

The pontoon bridge stretched across the main river in the morning light, its timber decking resting on floating supports, guide ropes secured to both banks. Far into the distance, the bridge marked in Siban’s reports was gone. Only the stone piers remained in the current, the decking and timbers dismantled and burned.

"We’ve tested the pontoon, it’s holding. The army can cross." Zhao reported flatly.

"Move the vanguard force across," Batu said.

The crossing followed the procedure established by the relay system. The cannon crossed on its sled frame and cavalry sections used the fords. The main body moved steadily onto the Oka’s north bank.

The military system worked as intended. The entire crossing was completed before the morning was over.

The rise north of the river provided the first clear view of the objective.

Ryazan stood on elevated ground above floodplains. Earthwork banks were visible from far away and timber palisades rose above them, while watchtowers safeguarded the corners and gates.

The river protected the city’s northern wall and eliminated any direct advance from that direction.

The city’s banners were flying and soldiers lined up the walls. They had already been watching the vanguard riders for hours. Now they watched the entire army arrive, formation after formation appearing through rise and spreading across the open ground.

There was no ambiguity about what they were seeing.

A rider stared at the city for a moment.

"So that’s Ryazan."

The man beside him squinted at the walls.

"That’s it?"

His companion snorted.

"What were you expecting?"

The first rider shrugged. "After all the shouting from the prisoners, I thought it’d be bigger."

A third rider looked toward the walls.

"Big enough to have plenty of riches."

"Then let’s hope they keep refusing to surrender."

Several riders laughed.

The army did not slow to study the city.

It reached the base of the rise and immediately expanded into its positions. Each mingan peeled off toward its designated sector without needing additional orders. Orda’s White Horde crossed from the bank and sealed another way out.

By midmorning every road leading out of the city was covered by Jochid riders.

The encirclement was complete.

The demand for surrender went to the south gate in the customary form. A rider delivered it and returned.

Twenty minutes passed before the answer came.

It came directly from the wall.

Yuri Igorevich of Ryazan had climbed to the parapet to respond in person.

The translator beside Batu listened and rendered the words as they carried across the distance.

He repeated the speech in an even tone, "I have heard what happened at Voronezh. I see how many of you stand outside my walls. I am still Yuri Igorevich of Ryazan, and this city was entrusted to me and to my fathers before me by the will of God."

The translation continued, "We will not surrender it. We will not hand over our people as tribute to any man who demands it with an army. If you want Ryazan, come and take it. You will discover it is not easy."

The translation lost some of the force carried by the original Rus words, but the meaning remained clear.

Batu studied the south wall. He looked at the prince standing upon it and at the banner above the gate.

"We have his answer."

His gaze remained on the wall.

"Begin the siege."

Fang spent the early afternoon to position the projectors.

The garrison reacted the moment the crews entered their range from the walls. Archers on the walkways started to fire instead of organized volleys. They intended to disrupt the siege equipment deployment before the bombardment began.

Most arrows fell short or wide.

But enough shafts filled the air that some inevitably found their mark.

One man in Fang’s crew took an arrow through the right shoulder while working. The shaft descended from the walkway above, entered through the front of the shoulder, and lodged near the back.

The injury made operating the machine impossible.

He stepped away from the frame, holding his arm against his chest. A reserve crewman immediately took over the controls. The wounded man walked himself out of the fire zone while he grunted from pain.

The other projectors faced the same problem.

While adjusting the aim toward the wall, a crewman took an arrow through the left thigh. The shaft punched through the muscle and dropped him to one knee.

He cried out in pain until a rider came to carry him to the safe zone.

Eventually, Fang confirmed the fire lancers position and the crew adjusted their aim. Seconds after, streaks of fire started to fly through open grounds.

The compound struck the gate and spread across the older timber, igniting on contact.

The response was immediate.

Bucket teams appeared on the walkway above. Water poured down the gate as the defenders tried to contain the fire before it spread.

"They’re dumping everything they have onto the gate ."

"Look at ’em strugglin’. It’s pathetic."

From the encirclement, a rider watched the eastern gate begin to burn.

"They can’t put them all out at the same time."

The bombardment followed the rhythm established by doctrine.

Fires were started on one target. The defenders committed bucket teams to contain them. The projectors shifted to another target while the response was occupied. Once repairs were made, the crews returned to the original target, knowing that replacement timbers were usually weaker than the wood they replaced.

By evening, three sections of the wall had been burned, repaired, and burned again. The timber frame of the east gate was completely gone.

The garrison fought fires and returned arrows throughout the day. They handled both tasks with discipline.

What they could not overcome was simple mathematics.

The fire spreading demanded more water and manpower they could provide.

Vladimir would not come.

The division Siban’s network had created during the autumn ball had survived the strain of the campaign. The fifty thousand riders were already inside Vladimir territory, making any relief effort impossible.

Chernigov faced the same problem from the opposite direction. Möngke’s army controlled the road between Chernigov and Ryazan.

The city could rely only on its walls and the men behind them.

No outside force would arrive.

Meanwhile, Siban’s operatives were already working in the next cities ahead of the campaign. In Vladimir and Pereyaslavl they continued building the networks they always built before an army appeared.

The next morning’s barrage began before dawn had fully colored the sky.

The projectors concentrated on the three damaged sections of the wall at the same time. The repaired timbers ignited quickly as they had already been weakened by the previous day’s fires.

By the time daylight spread across the eastern horizon, one section of wall palisade was burning in smoke visible far into the distance.

The cannon remained beside the supply section. It had not been used during the siege, and it would not be used now.

Batu understood the larger problem.

Every Rus city between Ryazan and Kiev would eventually hear reports from survivors. Those reports would change how future garrisons thought about their defenses. If word spread of a weapon capable of smashing walls in ways they did not expect, commanders would begin looking for weaknesses and preparing countermeasures.

That change in thinking was more dangerous than any immediate advantage the cannon could provide against timber walls.

The projectors were enough to solve the current problem.

Batu rode forward until the burning wall stood plainly before him.

The drums gradually fell silent.

Standards stirred across the siege formations. Riders turned their attention toward him while smoke drifted above Ryazan. Flames crawled through the damaged palisade while men on the walls fought to contain them.

Batu raised an arm toward the city.

"Ryazan was given its choice."

His voice carried through the command groups.

"It was offered life."

The burning wall crackled in the distance.

"It chose defiance."

The silence that followed stretched across the riders.

Batu pointed toward the city.

"Then let the Eternal Blue Sky judge between us."

The words passed outward through the formation.

Banner captains repeated them. Officers shouted them farther down the lines.

Batu’s arm remained raised.

"Take the men of worth who yield."

His hand closed into a fist.

"Everything else belongs to the fire."

The drums began again.

One by one, standards lifted across the encirclement.

Then the front ranks urged their horses forward.

The Jochid army began to close on the city.

Ahead of them, the projectors continued feeding fire into the burning walls