The capital city was facing an enemy from three sides; the reason they were not fully surrounded was due to the positioning of the Cathedral of Christ. Victor and Alphonse did not dare take the risk of potentially damaging church property or catching members of the church in the crossfire.
Lorenzo knew this as well and was relieved his numbers did not need to be stretched any further. It was already difficult having to separate his troops to defend three different fronts. They lacked the firepower and numbers that Victor and Alphonse had. With the Red Visconte Army crushed, there was no chance for reinforcements to save them. They were on their own.
When morning broke without warmth, just a hard, pale light spilling over the plains. From the balcony of the Visconte Palace, Lorenzo Visconte stood cloaked in red, his breath ghosting in the cold air. Below him, the enemy moved with dreadful precision.
The Luxenberg regiments advanced in perfect order, their lines gleaming like threads of steel drawn taut across the landscape. Each column halted at a measured distance, just beyond the reach of Roma's cannons—close enough to show their strength, far enough to mock the futility of firing.
Officers rode between the ranks, sabres flashing with every turn of the sun. The air trembled with the sound of drums, slow and deliberate, as if marking the heartbeat of some vast and patient beast.
Whereas the Green Visconte army spread in a looser pattern, banners rising and falling like waves against Luxenberg's straight edge. Their campfires still smoked from the night, their formation more a gathering than a line—but they were there in number, and numbers were their courage.
Lorenzo's fingers tightened around the cold stone of the parapet. "So," he murmured, "they mean to frighten me before they strike. If they were closer, I would have my cannons rip through their ranks and leave their mangled corpses out there to remind them of my wrath."
Far below, the great army shifted once more—and then was still, an ocean of silence waiting for the first thunder of guns.
But the thunder never came for the entire day, the armies stood still, well, the Luxenberg did, the Green Visconte soldiers swayed about and chatted amongst themselves, bored shitless. By the time the sun had set, not a single shot had been fired, and no cannonballs had struck the city's walls.
The proceedings of the day had left Lorenzo and his advisors confused; they were sure that the siege would begin with the roar of hundreds of cannons, not utter silence. Some of Lorenzo's advisors were under the impression that they were using some sort of intimidation tactic to make the soldiers uneasy.
Many of the soldiers were militia or fresh recruits, so their morale would sink in the sight of overwhelming numbers. They were not battle-hardened soldiers like the men of the Luxenberg Army. A few elderly militia members had previous experience in the military, but their bodies had grown frail. They would not make a difference against an army that has been honed for war.
Lorenzo expected the fighting to begin the next day, but to his surprise, the second, third, fourth and fifth days were the same: Just more intimidation tactics. This perplexed the Red Visconte brass that was inside the city. They were sure that they would have faced some skirmishes by now, but to their surprise, Victor and Alphonse had their armies not attack.
"Something is seriously afoot. Why would they not attack us?" Questioned an elderly advisor dressed in fancy robes.
"Perhaps they are waiting for more soldiers to bolster their numbers," said a tubby advisor.
"Nonsense, they have no reason to wait for more men. They could batter our walls with cannonballs while they wait. There has to be a reason why they are not attacking yet." Stated a senior officer of the Roma garrison.
Lorenzo's advisors debated and quarrelled amongst themselves while he remained deep in thought. He regretted not being able to have his uncle or brother-in-law with him to offer some valuable counsel. They were rallying whatever men they could find to raise another army for the Red Visconte faction.
The only advice he could receive was from aristocrats and low-level nobles who did not hold any lands. All of the nobles were in their territories, raising troops to fight. None of them had arrived with their men.
Aside from the 2 Marquises and their vassals, there were still 7 Counts who had not sent any word about their movements. Lorenzo knew that this siege would be pivotal for his reign. If he lost, but managed to survive, the faction's strength would still crumble with many Counts rushing to curry favour with the new ruler of the land.
It was safe to assume that victory was imperative for the survival of the Red Visconte faction. The first hurdle for them would be to understand the reason for the unwillingness of the Luxenberg Army to attack.
"Is it because of the Pope? Are they reluctant to attack out of fear due to the Papal Army? Surely it can not be that simple?" Lorenzo muttered to himself. No one managed to hear it since they were all talking over each other.
While they were trying to understand the Luxenberg Army's intention, Victor went into one corner of the camp, escorted by General Bertrand. "General, how goes the tunnelling?"
General Bertrand motioned his hand to the tunnel shaft to the left of him, "It has been good, my liege. We have men working through the night while the others are resting. The tunnel is only 100 meters out now."
"Another 20 nights, with good weather conditions, and they'll be under the bastion. Then comes the chamber, the powder, the tamping. One spark—and the eastern wall will come down like judgment."
Victor nodded happily. With good weather conditions and around-the-clock tunnelling, the Luxenberg engineers had tunnelled 100 meters in 18 days, but once they get closer to the walls, the speed of digging will have to slow down.
"Keep up the good work, General. Let us aim to blow the eastern wall within four weeks. The cannons will begin their assault on the northern wall within a few days. Hopefully, they will not hinder your work," Victor said, patting the General on the shoulder before walking back to his tent.
It would not be long until the first shot had been fired in the siege.