It took slightly over two weeks to reach the port city of Imperata, and for each night on the march, Victor and commanders were working hard to concoct an action plan.
Imperata had strong walls and now a massive garrison. The city had no apparent weak points which posed an issue for Victor. He did not wish to rely solely on his rockets. If he only relied on the rockets, then he would exhaust their ammunition. There was no telling how many more battles were to be fought, and the rockets still may have been needed.
There were two options presented to Victor, the first was the long and slow approach: Bombarding the walls and starving the city out. This plan was not particularly unique, but it would still work. The second option was to use the rockets to clear the walls of defenders and then send men with grappling hooks.
Imperata's only flaw was that its walls were not towering as some of the cities had besieged before. Grappling hooks could be used to scour the walls and create a foothold. The only flaw was that there were too many defenders. It would be costly to take the city.
As the Luxenberg Army inched closer to Imperata, a more fleshed-out plan came about. Many of the commanders were confident in taking the city with brute force, even at the risk of losing scores of men.
When the army arrived at Imperata, the city sat like a stone crown above the sea. High walls of pale limestone encircled it, shaped by centuries of coastal winds and reinforced with angular bastions that jutted toward the water like clenched fists.
Atop the battlements, Marquis Polo watched the enemy arrive.
He was not a young man, but he was experienced, stubborn, and intimately familiar with every stone of his defences. His men, slightly outnumbered but well supplied and fiercely loyal, stood in disciplined rows behind him. Imperata might bend someday, but it would not break easily.
Victor studied the city from horseback, his generals forming a quiet line beside him. The slight numerical advantage he possessed meant little here; one misstep on those walls could turn advantage into bleeding ruin.
"Strong position," General Lasalle muttered.
Victor nodded. "Good. A strong position means Polo will feel safe. Safe men make predictable choices."
"It seems like we are going to have a hell of a time taking that city," Marshal Davout said.
"What of their navy?" Victor asked.
"Our scouts confirm that their navy is only 7 ships strong. They won't be an issue, but we may need to sink them before Marquis Polo can use them upon his city." Marshal Davout reported.
Below them, the Luxenberg columns spread across the plains, wagons rumbling, artillery teams unlimbering guns whose barrels gleamed in the rising light. Engineers marked out the first lines for encampment.
No drums. No trumpets. Just the steady, inevitable movement of a professional army settling into siege. Imperata answered with a single cannon shot, fired high, harmless, a warning rather than an attack.
Victor smiled as the echo faded over the sea. "So," he said softly. "Marquis Polo wishes to speak first. Very well then, let us give him an answer. Rocket Artillery on the double."
A nearby adjutant nodded and relayed the orders to the artillerymen. They promptly set up the launching ramps for the rockets. All they were waiting for was Victor's signal to fire. Once the order was given, they would showcase their power.
The signal came in the evening as the auburn sunlight slowly faded from view. A volley of 20 rockets flew into the sky and descended quickly upon the walls of Imperata. Cries of soldiers were silenced by the deafening noise of the rockets. Their screeching noise caused many civilians to cower in fear in their homes.
Marquis Polo, who was on the battlements, was quickly rushed off the battlements to safety. His safety was more important than his impact on the soldiers' morale. As he was escorted away, the Marquis muttered, "It would seem that Victor Luxenberg is not here for a contest of attrition"
With an evening of a few rocket volleys, the first night of the siege concluded.
The next day's action would not begin at dawn due to an interesting move by Marquis Polo.
A small delegation emerged from Imperata's gates, five men in black, and scarlet surcoats, carrying a white banner trimmed in the Marquis's scarlet colours. They rode slowly toward the Luxenberg lines, watched by thousands of eyes from both sides.
Victor stepped out to meet them personally. Not on horseback. Not surrounded by guards. Just a king, walking across the trampled grass with the confidence of a man who knew wars could be won or lost in a few measured sentences.
The envoys dismounted and bowed. "His lordship, Marquis Polo, sends greetings," their leader said. "And requests an exchange of proposals before more blood is spilt on these plains."
Victor studied the man, then the distant city, then the sun lowering behind the walls.
"Very well," Victor replied. "Tell your lord that I will receive him and his terms now. He shall meet me here with no guards or companions."
The envoys bowed again and rode back toward Imperata.
Two wooden chairs and a single map table had been placed midway between the city walls and the Luxenberg lines; neutral ground marked by white banners. Marquis Polo approached from the west, unarmed and alone.
Marquis Polo's scarlet hair and eyes shone in the midday light. He was a slender man, but exuded an aura of someone whose body was in peak condition. Tristayne Polo was tall and almost looked angelic.
The two men were seated across from each other. Neither of them said anything at first. They studied each other, trying to gauge one another. Marquis Polo was the first one to break the silence.
"King Victor Luxenberg," he said. "I had hoped our first meeting might be under more peaceful circumstances."
Victor inclined his head. "War is the last resort. That is why we are speaking before it begins."