Vikings: Lords of the Ice Sea

Chapter 301 Herd of Horses
Following their commander's orders, the Vikings fired wildly at the stockade walls.

The army's archers and crew totaled more than a thousand men. Due to insufficient deck space, some waited in the cabins while others fired at the enemy from the deck, rotating when they were exhausted.

"Fire arrows! Shoot these Franks who dare to fight back!"

The bowstrings hummed together, and the arrows shot off like rising dark clouds, obscuring the clear sky above the river. The arrows reached their apex, hovered for a moment, and then swooped down with a piercing whistle.

The first volley of arrows had barely covered the stockade walls when the second volley rose. The whistling of arrows piercing the air was incessant, and the French archers who dared to retaliate were quickly killed or wounded. The defenders were pinned down behind the broken wooden walls and shields, unable to muster even the slightest thought of resistance.

After firing approximately 50,000 arrows, the Blackback Bass signaled for attack, and the brigs and hullers lowered their longboats, following the twenty Viking longships as they rushed toward the riverbank.

“Vahalla!”

The ships came to a stop, and the Viking soldiers leaped onto the muddy riverbank, splashing water everywhere. They carried long ladders and charged toward the fortified walls. After a brief battle, the Saxon banners on the walls were cut down and replaced by the black dragon banners of Britain.

Before long, the heavy wooden door creaked open and slowly opened, and Leif and the Marines filed into the city, where they were met with a shocking sight.

Everywhere you looked, the ground, rooftops, overturned piles of firewood, and even the corpses leaning against the walls were covered with arrows. They were so dense and abundant, like a clump of reeds that suddenly grew wildly in early summer.

"Be on high alert! Deploy into battle formation!"

Deputy Battalion Commander Invallon sounded the horn, ordering each squad to form a double formation and search forward along the street.

After advancing a hundred paces, they encountered a small, scattered group of defenders. Invallon shouted in broken Frankish, signaling the enemy to lay down their arms and surrender.

After a brief exchange, the prisoners claimed to be local Saxon militiamen who had been traveling through the area a few days earlier on their way to Denmark. In addition to the royal fleur-de-lis flag, they also carried a white flag with a black bear on it.

"White background with a black bear, the intelligence is correct, it's Gunnar's flag."

Invalon nodded slowly and, led by the prisoners, headed to the warehouse in the north of the city, where large quantities of grain, smoked meat, and beer barrels filled the cellars were piled up.

Invallon took out his issued tin jug, filled it to the brim with beer, and downed it in one gulp. The other soldiers did the same, and the cellar was immediately filled with a strong smell of alcohol.

"Give me some." Leif went into the cellar, tasted the local beer, and smacked his lips. "It has a slightly sour taste; it probably wasn't sealed properly during fermentation. Besides these supplies, what else did you find? How's the stable?"

Invalon shook his head. "The Second Company just reported that the stables cover a large area, but there are only twenty-one sick warhorses and thirty draft horses."

How could there only be these?

Leif had the translator interrogate the captured prisoners and obtained a useful piece of information: this morning, a convoy of warhorses and grain transport vehicles, totaling 420 horses, were sent to the front lines, all from the horse farms of West Frankish.

"so much?"

Leif became interested. At this moment, Vig's flagship was still floating on the river. He didn't have time to report, so he sent a messenger to inform friendly forces, then assembled his troops and left Hamburg, pursuing the enemy northeastward with the prisoners' guidance. During their garrison in Britain, the standing army's rations were regularly supplemented with animal offal and carrots to improve the soldiers' night vision. The carrots came from West Asia; thanks to the king's expensive purchase of carrot seeds from the Arabs, they had been cultivated on a small scale in Britain in recent years, enriching the people's diet.

The Marine Corps battalion, belonging to the Navy, has access to more fish livers and regularly conducts night march training, making them well-suited for night combat. Leif is confident he can catch up with this supply corps.

Before we knew it, the last ray of sunlight disappeared, night fell, and the air was filled with the scent of pine resin and decaying leaves. A gentle breeze rustled through the treetops, and the dark green pine needles surged like a black tide, occasionally punctuated by the hooting of owls, sending chills down our spines.

The marine battalion advanced in two columns, stepping on the soft humus soil, lighting a torch every so often. With the help of the dim light, the soldiers could roughly make out the tangled tree roots, drooping branches, and even the slippery moss under their feet, so as not to lose their formation.

Throughout the night, the Marine battalion marched along the forest trails. In the early hours of the morning, Leif counted the number of men. Of the 450 men who set out, only 420 remained. This was not as good as their usual training results, but it was still acceptable.

Noticing the soldiers' exhaustion, Leif ordered them to rest for three hours before continuing their journey, catching up with the slow-moving supply convoy that afternoon.

From a distance, the convoy stretched out in a long line along the narrow dirt road, raising clouds of dust that blotted out the sky, obscuring the exact number of supply wagons. Interspersed among the convoy were numerous warhorses, their herds divided into dozens of small groups, each managed by a team of grooms.

"Quickly, proceed according to plan!"

Leif issued the order for the two companies to flank the enemy from the woods on the left and right sides respectively.

Not long after, the screams of French scouts echoed through the woods. The Vikings had been exposed. Leif immediately blew his brass whistle, and the other officers did the same. Instantly, the entire area was filled with the sharp, piercing sound of charge whistles.

Without the slightest hesitation, each squad launched a spear charge towards the nearest French troops, crushing the panicked and weak militia in a single assault. To avoid frightening the horses, they did not even use their bows and arrows.

"The Vikings are coming! Run for your lives!"

Upon discovering that the Vikings were swarming in from the left, rear, and right, the grooms panicked and each picked a warhorse to try to escape.

The herd was about to get out of control, and Leif hurriedly sent soldiers to restrain them. However, the smell of blood from the Vikings eventually triggered the horses' reason, and some of the more aggressive stallions neighed loudly and ran wildly in what they thought was a safe direction.

As the warhorses charged, the Viking spearmen instinctively huddled together, using their spears to repel these massive, ferocious creatures and drive them backward.

Meanwhile, under the threat of arrows, many grooms were forced to submit and help restrain the warhorses.

After more than an hour of work, Leif stabilized the situation. Excluding the horses that had fled or been shot, a total of three hundred warhorses, as well as one hundred and thirty supply wagons and their accompanying draft horses, were captured. In addition to food and drink, the wagons were also loaded with more than one hundred sets of chainmail and numerous weapons.

Overjoyed by the large number of spoils he had seized, he ordered the convoy to turn around and return to Hamburg along the original route.

"Based on the value of the spoils, the War Department would award a certain percentage as a reward after the war. Fortunately, I made a timely decision, and now I'm rich."

(End of this chapter)