Vikings: Lords of the Ice Sea

Chapter 192 An Unexpected Turn of Events

Vig's plan was simple: under the cover of night, he would lead his personal troops south. The next morning, Ulf and Pascal would swagger north along the west bank to draw the enemy's attention.

"Remember, don't let the main force get too close to the riverbank, lest the other side can see your numbers clearly."

After giving repeated instructions, Vig selected 1,500 infantrymen in good condition and 300 cavalrymen led by Torga, and left the camp amidst the worried gazes of his allies.

Under the bright moonlight, the soldiers followed closely behind their predecessors, forming a long column, and silently made their way south.

During the two months of preparations for the expedition, Vig had his soldiers eat herring and cod every day. The cod liver oil was rich in vitamin A, which could prevent night blindness.

When on campaign, whenever pack animals, cattle, or sheep were slaughtered, Vig would always request livers to feed his troops. Sometimes, he would also supplement their diet with dairy products such as cheese and butter.

Unfortunately, carrots had not yet reached Europe. Vig had mentioned this to Berber merchants, who were willing to spend a lot of money to buy carrot seeds. They promised to write to Arab merchants in Asia and expected to hear from them within two years.

The next morning, scouts discovered a fishing village on the east bank of the river. Vig was right; the east bank was filled with a large number of warhorses drinking water with their heads down, and a group of clumsy militiamen were building a pontoon bridge.

Seeing this, he led his troops to hide in a mountain forest, which was less than two kilometers from the riverbank and was the closest hiding place.

"Let the soldiers rest and estimate the progress. The enemy may not be able to finish until noon or even the afternoon."

With some water, Vig ate a small piece of black bread, then leaned against a tree trunk and fell into a deep sleep.

After an unknown amount of time, rubbing his numb thighs, Vig opened his eyes. The Franks on the opposite bank were still busy.

"Wake up the soldiers, let them replenish their food and water, and put on their armor. The enemy is expected to cross the river in half an hour."

Vig hid at the edge of the woods, watching the busy figures of the Franks. Six noble banners were raised on the east bank, the most conspicuous being Gunnar's white banner with a brown bear.

His presence here, as the most capable vassal under Charles the Bald, can only mean that the French army had won the eastern front and was now free to deal with the Vikings in the west.

Time passed, the pontoon bridge was completed, and cavalrymen began to cross the river by their reins. Vig convened a meeting of commanders:
"Torja, you will lead the cavalry in a charge to disrupt their ranks, then split into two groups to clear out any scattered riders on the perimeter. Don't let the enemy interfere with the bayonet phalanx's movements."

"Viper, you command the archers to prioritize shooting at the horses on the pontoon bridge and do everything you can to block it."

"Joron, Shrike, each of you lead your spearmen and rush to the enemy's side as fast as you can, and push them into the river."

With that, Vig drew his Dragonbreath Sword, the ruby ​​inlaid on its hilt gleaming with a dazzling crimson light. "There are no fixed formations in warfare, just as water has no fixed shape. Charge! Let's teach these simple-minded barbarians a lesson!"

Upon receiving the order, three hundred cavalrymen led their reins out of the woods and formed two horizontal lines on the grassland, following Torga at the forefront as they charged the enemy. It was already afternoon, the sun was setting, and the Viking cavalry roared in from west to east, their backs filled with the blinding orange-red sunlight. The ground trembled slightly. The Franks, who were organizing their ranks on the riverbank, hurriedly mounted their horses, but before they could even accelerate, the Vikings' lances were already thrusting at them.

In an instant, the outermost hundred or so Frankish cavalrymen were stabbed to the ground, while the inner cavalrymen huddled together, their ears filled with the screams of their comrades and the neighing of their horses, making it impossible for them to hear the commands issued by their commander.

Sensing danger, the warhorses ignored their masters' shouts and desperately pushed their way to what they thought was a safe place, plunging the Frankish cavalry into complete chaos.

After a brief skirmish, the Viking riders retreated, making room for their allies behind them. "Form ranks, advance!" Urged on by their officers, the pikemen regrouped fifty meters from the enemy, then formed two dense rows of bayonets and marched forward in unison to the command.

Faced with rows of cold spears, the Frankish cavalry panicked. At that moment, the pontoon bridge was under heavy fire from crossbowmen, and the corpses of warhorses blocked the entire bridge. The cavalry had no choice but to abandon their horses, throw away their armor and weapons, and struggle to swim to the east bank.

In less than ten minutes, the more than 600 cavalrymen on the west bank were defeated, 200 were killed, more than 300 fled back to the east bank, and the remaining more than 100 were taken prisoner. The Vikings also captured 400 warhorses and a large amount of armor.

Unfortunately, Gunnar was on the east bank, and Vig failed to capture him or even seize his flag.

How many nobles were among the prisoners?

The shrike flipped through the register. "They are all minor nobles. The highest-ranking one is the second son of the Count of Montpellier, the cousin of Prime Minister Lambert. Then there are four barons and thirty-eight knights."

Vig didn't say anything more, and ordered his men to clean up the battlefield and organize an evacuation as soon as possible.

Just as he was about to leave, Gunnar called him from the opposite bank of the river, and the two walked more than a hundred paces downstream. With no one around, across the wide river, Vig shouted, "How is our army?"

"This is not good. Ragnar marched a long way and we seized the opportunity to ambush him. His entire army suffered heavy casualties, and he himself was hit by several arrows."

Gunnar recounted everything truthfully, stating that the location of the decisive battle was not far from Vig's prediction, situated in Auxerre. As the battle raged, Ella, the exiled prince of Northumbria, led a small squad of archers, shooting arrows coated with snake venom at Ragnar. Combined with repeated charges by the French knights, the Vikings were ultimately defeated.

“Ella?” Vig’s memory of the name had long since faded. “More than a decade has passed, and he’s still pursuing revenge?”

"Yes, even I didn't expect it. However, Ella's location was attacked by Hafdan and the berserkers. Ella was hit in the face by a flying axe, and more than a dozen minor nobles around her were also killed in battle."

Gunnar recalled the battlefield, perhaps stirring up his emotions, and chose to avoid the topic.

Vig felt equally heavy-hearted. "Decades of friendship, gone just like that?"

Gunnar wiped his eyes, then raised his chin high. "Vigg, ​​at our age, after experiencing all this, so-called brothers and women mean nothing. Only this crown continues to spur me on, making me feel alive. I am heartbroken, but I have no regrets!"
You're the same. Don't pretend to be an innocent and pure person. After Ragnar, only Ivar and you two are qualified to be king. Niels is half of it; he's not very capable, but he's ruthless enough to carve out a decent future for himself. The rest are just a bunch of mediocre good-for-nothings, like clueless river fish, swept along by the torrent of fate. Goodbye, old friend. The road ahead will be tough; take care of yourselves.

(End of this chapter)