Wars are pretty
commonplace in fantasy, for obvious reasons. They’re exciting, give
a good reason to kill off lots of characters (creating danger, drama
and tension) and are a perfect setting for heroism and the most vile
villainy.
But how long should a
war last?
There are several
factors to consider. The difference in army size and skill (including
any warmages present). The geography of the land (and whether navies
matter). Whether any fantastical or geological factors are at play
(volcanoes, firestorms, flying monkey attacks, etc). The competence
of the rulers and generals involved. Is the technological advantage
with besiegers or the besieged? And, last but not least, the nature
of the constitution and peoples on either side.
History furnishes us
with many examples. The Hundred Years’ War lasted quite a while. In
fact, so long that the nature of warfare changed during its course.
In the earlier period chevauchees (massive raids to seize booty and
burn property) were commonplace, with the Black Prince carrying out
many. The purpose was to show the French citizens that the French
king was incapable of protecting them, and the cause was partly
because it was hard to take a walled settlement by storm. Later on,
the development of siege engines made it easier to conquer cities
(during Henry V’s time). This also meant that the English policy
changed, and instead of terrifying French peasants Henry V ordered
that all civility and decency should be shown to them.
The Second Punic War
would’ve had a different ending and been much briefer if the Romans
had not been at the height of their pathological patriotism. When
Hannibal’s victory at Cannae obliterated a Roman army four times
the size of a normal full consular army, just about every other
country in the world would’ve, quite reasonably, sought terms. The
Romans, on the other hand, sold the land Hannibal’s army was camped
upon for full market value and then carried on. [The Roman
politico-military setup helped enormously as it enabled more armies
to be raised despite the enormous loss of manpower]. In later
centuries, Roman virtue was enervated by luxury, and they repeatedly
surrendered to far weaker opponents.
In the opposite moral
direction, in the same war, Carthage surrendered pretty quickly after
Hannibal suffered his only defeat, at Zama. But decades later, during
the Third Punic War, the city (whose territory was by then not an
empire but Carthage alone) showed far more backbone and vigour when
provoked by outrageous Roman demands into war. Yes, Rome won, but it
took several years for a massive empire to subjugate a single city
with very few resources.
Deus ex machina is
generally frowned upon (and rightly so), but a real life equivalent
happened around 1400. Ottoman forces were poised to conquer
Byzantium, and would likely have succeeded, but Tamerlane (think
Genghis Khan but a little later) and his massive army rolled into
Anatolia, obliterated the whole Ottoman army and reduced the Sultan,
quite literally, to a footstool [Tamerlane used him to stand on when
mounting his horse]. Byzantium survived for another half century, due
to this massive stroke of luck.
Brilliant generals can
also play a significant role. Alexander the Great is the most
obvious. He was personally heroic but also tactically and
strategically astute. An underestimated advantage he enjoyed was that
his father was probably just as good, and did all the hard work
reforming the Macedonian army and transforming it into the most
formidable military machine in the world. In addition, he enjoyed a
significant number of highly talented subordinates, such as Craterus,
Parmenio and Antipater. This allowed him greater flexibility, as he
could comfortably leave Macedonia behind in safe hands (Antipater)
and deploy forces under a competent general (Craterus) without
worrying they’d either rebel or fail.
It’s also worth
mentioning that battles are pretty rare in history (far more time is
spent marching about). I do think this is an area where it’s
legitimate to be a bit unrealistic on purpose when writing.
Pre-gunpowder warfare often involved walking up to several hundred or
thousand men and trying to stab them to death. Understandably, the
men were not keen on this if it could be avoided, and leaders were
wary of either outright defeat or losing so many men the victory
proved Pyrrhic.
Not only that, but
keeping a large army together required significant logistical
foresight (if only for the food and water), and always ran the risk
of disease breaking out.
Campaigns sometimes did
happen over winter, but it’s more difficult to get food at that
time of year, and to dig (fortifications, for example), so it often
meant a pause in hostilities.
There’s also the
difference between a war of conquest and a war of glory. Rome fought
to permanently acquire new territory. In Ancient Greece, it was often
the case that a single battle was fought and the victor would acquire
beneficial terms from the loser, but neither city-state was at risk
of extinction (as happened to Corinth when the Romans crushed them in
the 2nd century BC). A war of conquest will be more bitter
and hard fought, because people will fight the harder for their
survival. If surrender is a viable option, it can weaken the resolve.
From a writing
perspective, a war that lasts as long as The Hundred Years’ War
would probably be the work of either a Silmarillion-like approach, or
a mega-series (Wheel of Time, A Song of Ice and Fire etc). For a
normal single volume or trilogy, a couple of years would seem a
better prospect.
Thaddeus