Vikings: Lords of the Ice Sea

Chapter 114 Fortress
At the same time, Edinburgh, atop the cliff.

After being trapped for many days, Lord Arkansas was overjoyed to see reinforcements arrive. He was about to lead his men down the hillside when he heard devastating news before he even left the house—the reinforcements had run away.

"These cowards, they fought their way here, only to retreat after one charge?"

In desperation, he ordered everyone to shout loudly, but the reinforcements did not respond at all, disappearing straight into the lush southern mountains as if they had never been there.

As the sun set, the clouds were tinged pink by the evening glow. Under Arkansas's watchful gaze, another army surged into the western plains. He rubbed his eyes and saw a black flag raised at the head of the column. His last remaining hope was utterly shattered.

At the foot of the mountain, Vig glanced at the scattered corpses outside the trench and inquired about the specific battle situation.

Shrike: "The Gaels were terrified by our fortifications. They launched a symbolic attack and then fled into the woods. The enemy in Edinburgh on the hill, after witnessing the performance of their allies, retreated back into the wooden fort."

Ran?

Vig looked out over the rolling forests to the south, but saw no one in sight, and felt a little disappointed.

On second thought, the Gaelic army was disorganized and supplies were hard to come by in the mountains, so many people must have deserted. The longer they stayed, the fewer troops would remain, and they wouldn't pose much of a threat.

"After this battle, the Picts and Gaels will probably have very little mobile force left, and the focus should be on siege warfare afterwards."

Vig rubbed his head and had someone bring over Torga, who had contributed the most to the battle. Looking at the tall, thin man with short, light blond hair, Vig's face was full of smiles as he handed him a wine pouch.

A thousand troops are easy to get, but a general is hard to find.

After this battle, the knight proved himself to be a qualified cavalry commander, and Vig no longer hesitated to invite him to stay in Tyneburg.

Through these days of observation, Tolga felt that the chances of winning this war were very high. After conquering the northern border, the lord would have ample land to distribute to his nobles, and their treatment would certainly not be bad.

He took a deep breath and knelt on one knee on the grass. "It is my greatest honor to serve God's chosen ones."

After a two-day rest, Vig led his troops back to Stirling to continue their test of patience with the enemy. By late June, the situation in Edinburgh finally changed.

At dawn, the soldiers guarding the inner wall yawned incessantly. Having endured a whole night, their spirits and bodies were exhausted, and all they wanted was to hand over the duties as soon as possible and return to their barracks for a good night's sleep.

Suddenly, someone noticed five figures emerging from the bushes not far away and instinctively raised their crossbow to take aim.

"Wait, they're unarmed and seem to want to surrender." The leader stopped his men and sent someone to consult the Shrike.

Not long after, the Shrike led a large number of archers to the inner wall and had a translator call out to the five Picts, asking them why they had surrendered.

"Sir, there's nothing left to eat. We only get a small piece of black bread and two cups of rainwater each day. Some people have already starved to death."

Looking at these emaciated civilians, the shrike made them take off their shirts, and after confirming that they were not hiding any weapons, put them inside the inner wall.

As they passed through the city gate, five Picts spontaneously rushed toward the porridge bucket not far away. Ignoring the scolding of those around them, they snatched the wooden bowls, scooped up some warm oat porridge, and gulped it down.

Yawning, the shrike waved its hand, "Never mind, let them eat." After a few bowls of hot porridge, the Picts regained their spirits and recounted the situation of the hilltop fortress to the translator.

Since last winter, Lord Arkansas has conscripted commoners to fortify the fortress, store food in cellars, and dig a large reservoir to collect rainwater in preparation for a long-term defense.

At the end of April, the settlement at the foot of the mountain fell, and many residents fled to the wooden fortress on the mountain. The lord incorporated most of the men into the garrison, totaling four hundred men, in addition to more than three hundred family members.

After a long period of depletion, the warehouses were running low on food, and Arkansas was forced to reduce supplies. Except for himself, fifty guards, and a small number of family members, the food and water for the rest of the people were strictly limited.

Realizing this was not a long-term solution, the five Picts sneaked down the mountain under cover of night in search of a decent meal.

After they finished speaking, the shrike sighed, "Seven hundred people, who survived on the mountain for two months, certainly didn't have much food left."

Before the expedition, the lord told him, "War is about attrition. It's about using manpower, food, and supplies to inflict greater losses on the enemy with a smaller cost, until the final victory."

Even now, the shrike still finds those words quite profound. His gaze swept over the five Picts, and he decided to adopt a more aggressive strategy.

"I have a task for you. You are not required to do it. Those who accept it will receive twenty silver pence."

Tempted by the money, the Picts' greed was aroused, and they listened carefully to the mission details.

The shrike's demands were simple: let these people shout to persuade them to surrender. Those who were willing to surrender would be given a full meal, and if they brought weapons and armor down the mountain to join them, they would receive additional rewards.

"Exchanging food and money for the enemy's troops and weapons is a very worthwhile deal. I hope you won't punish me, sir. Hmm, you probably won't."

That afternoon, under the protection of a group of soldiers, five Picts climbed the hillside to persuade their former allies to come out and surrender.

"Gentlemen, the Serpent of the North promises that it will never make things difficult for peasants and slaves. In addition, captured guards will have to endure hard labor for a period of time, but the lord's family will not be pardoned."

The shouts attracted the defenders' arrows, but unfortunately the Pictet bows had insufficient range and caused no casualties.

Persuasion to surrender continues.

To increase their persuasiveness, the shrike deliberately chose a time with a favorable wind, and had his soldiers set up pots to cook wheat porridge and roast mutton. The aroma wafted all the way to the wooden fortress, undermining the morale of the defenders.

That night, three furtive figures approached the inner wall. The Welsh archers ordered them to sit on the edge of the moat and not move until dawn before letting them in.

After a hearty meal as usual, the three men accepted the mission of persuading the defenders to surrender, using their own experiences to convince the troops to lay down their weapons.

In the following days, people came down the mountain to seek refuge every night. One guard even brought a precious suit of iron armor. The shrike immediately kept its promise and gave the man a small barrel of beer and fifty silver pence.

Realizing the situation was deteriorating, one night Arkansas led dozens of men down the mountain to feign surrender. However, they inadvertently revealed their weakness on the way and fled back to the mountaintop fort in a panic, causing morale to plummet.

On July 5th, Arkansas completely gave up the idea of ​​resistance. Under cover of darkness, he and a dozen loyal guards secretly lowered several ropes down the cliff. The Vikings who were lying in wait discovered them, and after a fierce battle, Arkansas was killed on the spot, and Edinburgh changed hands.

(End of this chapter)