Vikings: Lords of the Ice Sea

Chapter 20 Shield Wall
Running back to camp, Vig inquired around and discovered that Ragnar was playing chess with someone.

"Thank goodness, this person wasn't drunk; there's still hope."

Upon seeing his subordinate arrive, Ragnar raised his hand to stop him from speaking, intending to finish the game before discussing serious matters.

This board game, called Hnefatafl, originated in Northern Europe and was the most popular board game in Viking society.

The rules of board game are simple and easy to understand. The defending side has one king and twelve pawns, and the goal is to escort the king to the corner of the board. In contrast, the attacking side has twenty-four pawns, and the objective is to surround and block the king.

"Hmm, a moment of carelessness led to a crushing defeat. It seems I have no chance now."

Ragnar hesitated for a long time before surrendering, tossing his opponent two silver coins and turning to Vig, "Instead of going out to have some fun, you've come to bother me. Are you short of money?"

“No,” Vig said solemnly, refusing the handful of silver coins offered by the other party. “I have devised a plan to defeat the enemy, and I need you to summon the nobles.”

"You want to launch a night raid? Don't dream about it. I used this trick to defeat Ellaud six years ago and even stole his crown in the chaos. Haha, that's a humiliation he can never wash away. Unfortunately for him, Ellaud isn't stupid. This time, he specially deployed many hunting dogs outside the camp. They are very alert and can detect the presence of strangers from dozens of meters away."

Recalling the past, Ragnar laughed heartily. But then, the thought of losing to a former idiot king filled him with a deep sense of defeat. He waved for Vig to leave, but the latter defied him, taking the chess pieces and beginning to plan tomorrow's battle.

Vig placed fifteen pieces on the left side of the board, representing Elroud's 1,500 soldiers, and ten pieces on the right side, representing 1,000 Vikings.

"Both armies will use shield walls, and we are at a disadvantage. If we stubbornly hold on, we will suffer losses sooner or later. Therefore, I suggest concentrating our elite troops on the south side, quickly defeating the enemy in front of us, and then occupying the hillside south of the road, so that the archers can fire down on Elaud's position from a high vantage point."

After listening, Ragnar's eyes gradually brightened, and he went around looking for people to hold meetings with, but these guys all seemed to be busy with their own things.

Leonard was locked in a fierce battle with two shield girls and had no time to deal with Viggo.

Ulf, clutching a half-empty jug of mead, leaned against a tree trunk and fell into a deep sleep. Vig went over and nudged him for a long time, wondering if the man had died of alcohol poisoning.

A drunken Ivar was arguing with Bjorn, debating the relative strengths of Jormungandr and Thor.

In the camp filled with an atmosphere of post-apocalyptic revelry, Ragnar and Vig searched for people to talk to, and it wasn't until late at night that they managed to barely complete the tactical adjustments.

May 5, 843 AD, early morning.

As per the pre-battle plan, all the Viking warriors equipped with iron armor were positioned on the left flank. After forming a shield wall, the warriors spontaneously used their weapons to rhythmically strike the shields, slowly advancing westward.

Boom, boom, boom.

As time passed, the enemy's more than a thousand square shields gradually emerged in the morning mist. In order to boost morale, the enemy also began to strike the shields, and the two parallel wooden walls gradually moved closer together.

A hundred paces away, a volley of arrows flew out from behind the enemy's shield wall, like a dense rain of blows hitting the Vikings' heads, occasionally eliciting a few shrill cries of agony.

Because the Vikings on the left flank were all equipped with iron armor, they suffered the least damage and their advance was not significantly hindered. In contrast, the pace of the central and right flanks was noticeably slower, ultimately causing the Vikings' left flank to become significantly more exposed, and the shield wall, which was originally a straight line, evolved into a diagonal line. To conserve their energy, Nils's hundred-plus archers did not retaliate at all, which puzzled the opposing Anglo-Saxons, who suspected that the Vikings had run out of arrows.

Two minutes passed, and the two sides were less than thirty meters apart. The closer they got, the slower their pace became, and their breathing grew heavier. Vig stared intently at the soldiers opposite him, who also stared back at him, uttering a continuous stream of profanities, intending to use this to disrupt the Viking barbarians' mind.

Unfortunately, he couldn't understand the English spoken at that time.

Half a minute later, the two shield walls began to collide. Vig seized the opportunity and thrust out with his sword, the sharp blade cutting a deep, bone-revealing wound on the opponent's cheek.

The enemy, writhing in agony, was met with another swift strike, this time piercing his throat with pinpoint accuracy. Before he could even rejoice, a shadow suddenly loomed from his right. He instinctively ducked, feeling only a dull thud from his helmet.

so close.

Vig looked up again and found that the soldier opposite him was much more muscular. This Anglo man seemed to have inexhaustible strength, swinging his iron axe repeatedly and striking his shield, making Vig's arm ache.

Realizing his opponent was a novice, Vig didn't bother arguing with him. While the opponent was frantically attacking his round shield, Vig easily pierced the man's calf with his Dragon Breath Sword, finishing off another enemy.

"Valhalla!" A roar suddenly erupted from the left flank. Several burly men draped in bearskins used massive axes to carve a breach in the enemy's shield wall and bravely pushed their way in. Nearby Vikings spontaneously followed. Under the relentless assault from the left flank, the Anglo-Saxon shield wall was forced to retreat step by step, ultimately surrendering the entire southern area.

"Hey, it's our turn to go on stage."

Behind them, Nils, who had been itching to attack, roared and led a hundred archers up the south slope to fire at the mounted figure in the center of the enemy formation.

After three rounds of rapid fire, the crowned rider and his horse fell to the ground. Before Nils could even rejoice, he ordered the archers to continue raining arrows down in that direction.

Despite the soreness in his arm, Nils fired all thirty arrows he carried, using so much force that the bowstring was stained bright red with blood from his fingers.

Huh, huh.

Amidst heavy breathing, Niels, utterly exhausted, collapsed to the ground. Looking into the distance, he saw that the Anglo-Saxon soldiers in that area had suffered heavy casualties after being bombarded by three thousand arrows, especially the white horse lying dead on the ground, its body riddled with arrows, resembling a huge porcupine covered in sharp quills.

"Having been hit by so many arrows, he probably won't survive."

Niels pulled out a strip of cloth to stop the bleeding from his right hand. He watched as the enemy led a warhorse over, helped a figure who had been hit by several arrows onto the horse, and then escorted him away.

With the king's fate unknown, the soldiers' fighting spirit waned, and the shield wall crumbled in an instant.

To make their escape easier, the palace guards discarded their cumbersome shields and iron swords, and even threw away their helmets and heavy armor as they ran, all in an effort to escape the Vikings' pursuit. Even the red and yellow striped flag that represented the royal family was taken away by Ivar.

Looking at the chaotic battlefield, Niels muttered to himself, "Vigg has done a great service this time. I wonder what Ragnar will reward him with?"

(End of this chapter)