Vikings: Lords of the Ice Sea

Chapter 257 Winter
After two days of snowfall, the weather cleared up. Under the rising sun, the thick, soft snow covered the camps outside the city, the plains, and the rolling hills in the distance, like a huge velvet blanket.

During this period, the Vikings maintained the damaged city defenses, repaired captured French armor, and were determined to hold their ground.

Gazing at the French camps and simple bungalows outside the city, Hafdan whistled lightly, occasionally taking a sip of mead. Having suffered numerous setbacks, he had learned to control his impatience; as long as he could hold out until the French retreated, the war would be won.

As for the villages in south-central Denmark that were looted, Hafdan didn't care, since they weren't his territory anyway.

Annoyed by his third brother's whistling, Uber subconsciously asked, "Aren't you worried about French troops entering Sweden from Funen and Zealand?"

"Whatever. The nobles in southern Sweden are unrestrained, which is perfect for wearing down the enemy's forces. Even if we capture Lund and Helsingborg in the south, it will take the French at least a week to enter my directly controlled territory. By then, I will have already led my troops back to reinforce it. Moreover, the Swedish climate is harsh, and a long march will result in even greater casualties."

As time went by, King Louis used grain, furs, and wool plundered from the people to feed his army and urged his soldiers to cut down trees to build large catapults. However, his army craftsmen were too poor in skill and lacked the necessary experience, so the catapults were slow to develop.

"Haha, these people are absolutely hilarious."

Gazing at the colossal beast that had collapsed with a deafening roar, and the Frankish soldiers fleeing in all directions, Uber smiled, a rare occurrence for him. This joy lasted for three days, until he received devastating news from the north:
French cavalry launched a long-distance raid and captured Aalborg, which had stockpiled a large amount of grain, in just one night. The queen and her two children disappeared without a trace.

"Impossible! This is absolutely a rumor!"

After two days of anxious waiting, Uber saw the various spoils displayed by the French army outside the city, including royal clothing and a black raven totem enshrined in the Temple of Aalborg.

Seeing his fourth brother's distraught appearance, Hafdan handed him a jug of mead. "The French cavalry's long-distance raid and accurate arrival at Aalborg, followed by their swift capture, proves that there is a traitor within your ranks, most likely Edmund."

Hafdan's reasoning is simple: Edmund initially surrendered to Ragnar, nominally pledged allegiance to Gunnar during the civil war, then to Vig, and later to Uber, switching allegiances four times in total.

Moreover, Edmund was a devout Anglo-Catholic nobleman, belonging to the same religion as the Franks. As long as King Louis offered a suitable condition, Edmund had no reason to refuse.

After finishing the last sip of mead, Uber abruptly stood up. "No, I want to return to the north to stabilize the situation."

"Are you crazy?"

Hafdan grabbed his brother's shoulder. "Win this battle, keep your throne, and you won't have to worry about finding women. The problems with food and supplies will also be solved. I'll write to Eric and ask him to send food and more reinforcements."

Having detected the French army's actions in the occupied territories, Hafdan resolved to hold out to the bitter end. Besides seeking revenge and worldly gains, the enemy also intended to completely eradicate the Viking faith. If they weren't repelled this time, there would be endless trouble to come.

The following morning, Uber, still worried about his missing family, suggested that the Allied forces withdraw from Wael. "The French trebuchets are almost finished. We should withdraw by sea and station the main force in the northern port of Aarhus. I will lead my guards to gather the remaining troops near Aalborg."

With their host determined to retreat, the Norwegian and Swedish troops lost their will to hold out and fled by ship from Wael, heading north along the coast to Aarhus.

The situation here is similar to that of Wael; it is also a small port town on the east coast with two hundred Viking militia.

The main force of the allied forces entered the port, but the ship carrying Uber and his two hundred guards did not stop and continued northward. Hafdan climbed the watchtower and silently saw them off. In the distance, leaden clouds hung low, almost touching the sea level. The cold wind, carrying fine snowflakes, whipped his face. Hafdan rubbed his hands, gazing at the receding sails until the fleet was swallowed by the light mist on the sea.

"My stupid brother."

The moment Hafdan uttered his complaint, he suddenly recalled the way Ivar and Bjorn had looked at him, which seemed to contain similar emotions.

Slightly stunned, his worries intensified.

When he founded the Sword of North, he had angered almost all the nobles in Sweden, and it was his father who stepped in to resolve the trouble. Now that his father, eldest brother, and fifth brother have all passed away, and his second brother Bjorn has chosen to exile himself, the family's reputation remains, but its strength has rapidly declined. If something goes wrong with Uber, Hafdan has no confidence in protecting his younger brother's power.

"How could my family have fallen to this state in just a few years? Was it really something I did wrong?"

Instinctively, Hafdan shook his head violently, forcibly ending this desperate thought process.

As the weather grew increasingly frigid, the main French forces remained in Vaillet, focusing their efforts on scavenging for food and building up strength for the next offensive.

During this period, news of Hafdan's plea for help spread in Norway and Sweden, attracting a large number of restless Viking warriors due to his status as a son of Ragnar, and his numbers increased day by day.

Sensing the shift in the battlefield situation, Nils, who had taken refuge in Pomerania, changed his attitude. He gathered the soldiers who were resting in various tribes and selected four hundred men who were skilled in archery.

After a period of intensive training, scouts reported back that Nils had ordered an attack. His desertion had severely damaged his prestige, and if he didn't do something, it would be difficult to maintain control after the war.

"Let's go! Drive out these Franks and take back everything we have!"

Upon hearing the lord's command, the soldiers remained silent. Having lost Schleswig multiple times, they were already used to it. They silently fastened the white cloaks issued by the lord and marched out of the camp in formation.

For his first mission, Nils's target was a supply convoy. He led his men to the edge of the pine forest and quietly observed the road covered with a thin layer of snow.

In the distance, the muffled sound of wheels rolling over the snow could be faintly heard. Nils looked back and signaled to everyone to take cover.

As the caravan drew nearer, its outlines came into view through the snow. The horses pulling the carts puffed out thick white smoke as they trudged along. The Frankish guards, bundled in thick woolen clothing with their helmets pulled low, revealed only their red, frostbitten noses and weary eyes. They rubbed their hands together every now and then, trying to find some warmth.

"preparation."

Niels gave the order, then slowly drew back his yew longbow to its full extent, aiming at a mounted commander draped in a black cloak.

(End of this chapter)