Vikings: Lords of the Ice Sea

Chapter 108 Declaration of War
After reading the parchment account of the attack, Pickett's envoy remained unconvinced and argued with Vig for a long time before finally issuing a threat:

"My lord, upon learning of your impending attack, the Gaels, Picts, and the Anglo-Saxons who had previously fled into the country have all united. Are you sure you want to face this massive coalition?"

Vig gave a nonchalant smile. "Yes, your forces can't possibly outnumber the Franks. Half a year has passed, and you must have heard about the Battle of the Seine. I was able to defeat a Frankish army of nearly ten thousand, so I can certainly deal with this haphazardly assembled coalition."

With things having come to this point, the envoy abandoned his efforts to strive for peace and quietly left Tyneburg.

At that moment, the soldiers in the open space were still practicing their martial arts. The envoy stopped and watched for a while, his mood growing increasingly somber.

"The Vikings are fully engaged in planning the war, while the alliance is still entangled in past conflicts. If this continues, I fear we will suffer a crushing defeat."

Amid the shadow of war, the year 849 AD arrived. As temperatures gradually warmed, Vig shifted his focus to training troops.

Before his campaign in Frankish territory, he had two thousand troops under his command. After the Frankish and Welsh wars, after accounting for the casualties, six hundred soldiers remained who were willing to stay and fight.

With these 600 men as the core, Vig recruited 1,400 Viking militia from within the territory, restoring the force to 2,000. Three Welsh tribes were expected to provide 500 men as mountain infantry.

Meanwhile, knights from all over the south were arriving in droves to assemble. By mid-April, just as the army was about to set off, a total of two hundred qualified cavalrymen had been assembled, and the appearance fees for these men alone cost six hundred pounds of silver.

“Two thousand bayonet phalanx, five hundred Welshmen, two hundred cavalry, and more than two thousand Nordic raiders who are still arriving.”

He climbed to the top of the main building and looked at the large number of tents in the open space outside Tyne Town. He felt that five thousand men were enough to deal with the Pict-Gael Alliance in the North, and there was no need to waste any more time.

Having made up his mind, Vig summoned his high command and announced that they would launch a northern expedition two days later. After arranging everything, he headed to the northern camp, surrounded by his guards, to get acquainted with the knights and raider leaders who had recently arrived.

"Wait, who are you?"

Vig stood still, staring at a knight wearing chainmail and a pointed helmet, momentarily unable to recognize his identity.

“My lord, my name is Torga. I was once a knight of Gunnar and participated in the Battle of the Seine.” The man removed his helmet, revealing short, light blond hair, and introduced his twelve companions to the lord.

“We were all Gunnar’s subordinates. Last year, he insisted on converting to Roman Catholicism. More than 400 people, including myself, couldn’t stand this behavior and escorted the last batch of ransom back to Londinium.”

Afterwards, I went to His Majesty's newly established Heraldry Institute to renounce my oath of allegiance to Gunnar. My original plan was to join His Majesty's Royal Guard, but unfortunately, I had an old grudge against 'White Hair' Oleg, so I decided to head north to participate in this war.

After hearing Torga's story, Vig did not rush to recruit him, but only said some polite words and encouraged him to fight bravely.

For the next two days, the camp was in a frenzy, with unlimited fish, meat, and beer, which everyone thoroughly enjoyed.

On April 20, the army officially set off, heading north along the coastline. Transport ships provided them with supplies. After about three days, they arrived at the ruins of Lindisfaun Monastery.

The monastery is located on an island on the eastern coast. At low tide, one can reach the island along a natural causeway. The surrounding area is full of marshes and frequented by birds.

After decades of neglect, the monastery buildings were covered in vines, becoming a paradise for wild animals. Further north, a river, the Tweed River, flowed from west to east. For a long time, this was the border between the Picts and Northumbria; stepping onto the opposite bank meant the outbreak of war.

Under Vig's orders, the supply convoy sailed into the river and chose a suitable spot to set up a pontoon bridge.

Long before setting out, the Vikings had made ample preparations. Before long, more than ten longboats were lined up neatly on the river, five meters apart from each other. Then, heavy iron anchors were dropped to secure the hulls, and the boats were connected with iron chains.

Around noon, a few scattered Pickett scouts appeared on the north bank. Before they could get close, the advance team that had crossed the river earlier fired arrows, successfully driving the scouts away.

The following morning, the pontoon bridge was completed, and Vig led the gray horse across the bridge.

Halfway there, gazing at the rushing river and the weeds floating along its surface, he instinctively uttered a Latin proverb: "Alea iacta est (The dice have been thrown)."

Half an hour later, a scout rider arrived to report that a large number of Picts, nearly three thousand, had gathered fifteen miles ahead.

"The response was relatively timely."

Vig stretched and assembled his troops to meet the enemy. Yoren whispered his advice, "My lord, there are only three thousand men on the north bank. I suggest we wait a while longer."

"Wait? The other side isn't stupid. They won't be foolish enough to fight my five thousand men with three thousand. Realizing they are outnumbered, their only option is to retreat."

To prevent the enemy from being scared away, Vig decided to use an equal number of troops for the battle, including two thousand bayonet phalanxes, five hundred Welsh mountain infantry, two hundred cavalry, and more than three hundred loosely organized raiders.

For the next two hours, the two walked towards each other until noon when they met in an open meadow.

Compared to the Anglo-Saxon states and West Frankish states, the Picts were the most poorly equipped. Only a very few wore iron armor, while most wore tattered wool coats, carried short swords and round shields, and formed a scattered formation, like a group of commoners going to a market.

At that moment, a Pictish nobleman on horseback was giving a speech to his subordinates, which elicited continuous cheers.

Seeing this, Vigé was too lazy to waste words and ordered the two bayonet squares to spread out into a wide horizontal formation and slowly advance northward.

With the distance reduced to two hundred meters, the Welsh longbowmen, led by the shrike, aimed their arrows into the sky and fired several rounds. Then, the four hundred crossbowmen at the front of the column also began to fire.

Round after round of arrows rained down, throwing the Picts into a brief panic. They were forced to form a shield wall and slowly approach the Viking formation.

Finally, when the distance was reduced to forty meters, the Picts launched a counterattack. They took the javelins from their backs and hurled them at the Viking formation.

In an instant, the crossbowmen at the front of the formation suffered heavy casualties; neither their shields nor the heavy armor of the crossbowmen could stop the javelin attacks.

Having suffered heavy losses, the crossbowmen's morale collapsed, and they retreated back into their formation along the pre-prepared passage.

(End of this chapter)