Vikings: Lords of the Ice Sea

Chapter 190 The Seemingly Peaceful Wilderness

With the city's fortifications damaged, the Vikings slowly pushed fifteen tall, heavy siege towers toward the northern wall of Rennes.

The only way the defenders could think of to deal with this weapon was to launch rockets. Their archers rushed up the exposed city walls, trying to shoot and destroy the approaching towers.

Enduring the fire of Viking archers, the defenders burned five siege towers, but at the cost of more than half of their two hundred archers being killed or wounded. The survivors were demoralized and unwilling to return to the city walls to continue fighting.

Minutes later, the wooden planks of the siege tower crashed down, and a large number of armored soldiers surged onto the city wall, using their numerical superiority to overwhelm the defenders. They then seized the city gate, allowing the main force to pour into the city.
After the battle, Vig summoned representatives of the local residents to inquire about the whereabouts of the Brittany nobles.

One of them replied, “You’re looking for those gentlemen? They were terrified by the Franks. Some were captured, some surrendered, and only a very few gentlemen have retreated into the mountains for refuge.”

Vig gestured for his subordinates to bring out a tray of silver coins. "Lead the way, I need to speak with them."

Looking at the many suspicious faces, Vig explained, "King Ragnar has no intention of occupying Brittany; he only wants to return it to its original owner. Let them come quickly; first come, first served."

The following day at noon, a nobleman in his forties rushed to Vig, claiming to be Salomon of the Boeh family, who had unquestionable rights over the entire Brittany region.

After spending a long time boasting about his family's long history, Salomon finally got to the point and asked the Vikings what they wanted.

Vig: "Attack the Franks to supply my army."

Salomon looked troubled. “I am willing to rally the people against the Franks and sell grain at low prices, but I cannot join your army, let alone submit to Ragnar. Please forgive me, but in the eyes of the people, the Franks are invaders, and you Vikings are no better, a bunch of plundering heretics.”

Vig didn't take it seriously and let Salomon take the captured shields and iron swords to form an army to attack the Frankish garrison in the Brittany interior. "Prove your worth, and then I'll consider handing Rennes over to you."

After Salomon left, Ulf and the other nobles quickly inquired about the content of the conversation. They couldn't understand Latin and could only judge based on the expressions of the two speakers.

"It's settled. Salomon is willing to attack the Frankish garrison. Once it's done, I will hand over the city of Rennes. If he dies, we can simply find another noble to fill the vacancy."

"That's it?" Ulf's eyes widened. "He's not even willing to help us in this battle?"

Vig patiently explained to his colleagues, "The Franks and the local people share the same religion but have different cultures, while the Vikings and the local people have different religions and cultures. The local people are more resentful of us, and even if we force them to join, at best we'll just get a bunch of freeloaders."

The quality of an army is more important than its quantity.

This was a conclusion he reached after many years of fighting: keeping Brittany soldiers in their homeland to fight against the Franks would be more effective.

The situation in Brittany suddenly became tense in the following week, with locals launching large-scale attacks on the garrisons of various settlements. Confirming the escalation of tensions, Vig left 500 men to garrison Rennes and led the remaining troops south.

Three days later, they approached the mouth of the Loire River, where the terrain was flat, the river was hundreds of meters wide, and it was filled with large areas of lush marshes.

Vig sent scouts to search the area and found a dilapidated town. More than ten years ago, a group of Viking pirates broke into Nantes and plundered the surrounding area, causing the town to decline rapidly and even lack the funds to repair its damaged wooden fortifications.

Upon the arrival of a large army, the local population fled, leaving behind a settlement filled with ruins and weeds.

"What a desolate sight," Ulf remarked, a hint of regret in his voice. In this wretched state, he feared they wouldn't find much of value.

Having gathered a few ships, Vigé left three hundred men in Nantes to repair the damaged walls, while the main force crossed the Loire River and ventured deep into the heart of West Francia.

As time passed, Pascal grew increasingly uneasy. Gazing at the lush forest on the east side of the road, he had a feeling that a large ambush was lurking behind him.

He squeezed his legs against the horse's flanks, urging it to rush to Vig's side. "Your Grace, are you really planning to attack Bordeaux?"

Vig replied listlessly, "What can I do about His Majesty's orders? Besides, the southern region is rich in wine and other produce, perfect for the brothers to make a killing."

Ulf chimed in from the left: "The Duke is right. During this time, we've raided the surrounding baronies' and knights' estates, seizing over three hundred warhorses, not to mention countless amounts of wine, grain, and wool. Bullying these country nobles is much better than fighting to the death with 'Bald' Charles's main French army. Kid, you'd better be happy to be with us."

Hearing Ulf's complaints, Pascal Jr. fell silent and turned to watch the First Infantry Regiment marching.

The soldiers marched silently in four columns, with junior officers on either side responsible for maintaining formation, and at the very front was the company commander carrying a flag-bearing rifle with a small black triangular flag attached to the tip, bearing a string of strange characters: "1-8".

Pascal asked those around him and learned that the string of characters was a number from the East, representing the 8th Company of the 1st Infantry Regiment.

Each company was followed by six supply wagons, loaded with water buckets, black bread for lunch, shovels, and soldiers' armor.

After numerous battles, the armor coverage rate of the First Infantry Regiment reached 80%. The armor was of various styles and generally weighed more than 25 kilograms. To avoid heatstroke, the soldiers wore only a thin linen shirt when traveling.

It was the height of summer, the sun was blazing, and beads of sweat slid down the soldiers' necks, soaking their linen shirts. Occasionally, someone would untie their water pouch and take a big gulp, then stuff the cork back in, without saying a word.

In contrast, the discipline in the center of the column was chaotic, with two thousand soldiers in disarray, some talking and laughing loudly. Instead of stopping them, the officers joined in the soldiers' chatter, as if they were a group of rural farmers going to a market.

"Don't these guys have any shame at all?"

Pascal was dissatisfied, but being conservative and reserved by nature, and only eighteen years old, he couldn't bring himself to reprimand the lower-ranking soldiers. He kept a straight face and walked until noon.

They chose a dense elm grove to rest. Following the scouts' directions, the companies of the First Infantry Regiment went to the river to fetch water in an orderly fashion, and then returned to their original positions to eat black bread.

After a two-hour rest, the group continued their journey. As the sun set, Vig chose a gentle slope to set up camp. The soldiers wielded shovels, hammering sharpened wooden stakes into the soil to form standard rectangular defensive fortifications. They then set up a campfire to cook salted meat porridge, thus ending their tiring and busy day.

(End of this chapter)