Vikings: Lords of the Ice Sea

Chapter 304 Crossroads
On June 5th, Carloman and Fat Charlie crossed the Daniwilk Line again. Last month, when Gunnar passed through the area, he had these low fence-like walls burned down. Now, the line was reduced to a low earthen slope and had lost its defensive function.

With time running out, the two brothers abandoned their pursuit of capturing towns and focused solely on reaching Aalborg in northern Denmark.

At this moment, the main force of the Nordic Allied Army was stationed in Wael. During this time, a steady stream of Vikings arrived to reinforce them, bringing the total size of the Nordic Allied Army to over ten thousand. Excluding the garrison troops in various locations, they had more than seven thousand troops at their disposal.

Upon learning of the enemy's situation, Fawell proposed going to war, saying, "They have less than five thousand men; we can fight this battle."

Comparing the strengths of both sides, the nobles were in high spirits. Most of them feared Gunnar, a formidable character, but were not afraid of Carloman and Fat Charlie.

I heard that with equal numbers of troops on both sides, they were easily defeated by Vig in less than an hour, proving that the two were complete incompetents.

"One hour? That's an exaggeration. I've never heard Vig mention it."

Eric urged everyone to calm down, and Hafdan and Lexal echoed his sentiments. The three of them were more or less aware of the gap between themselves and Vig. Given the overall strength of the allied forces, they could not replicate Vig's previous victories, and the slightest carelessness could lead to defeat. It was better to continue to stay in Wael and observe.

After arguing for a few minutes, a voice suddenly broke out from the crowd, "Despite having a numerical advantage, Ragnar's sons still hesitate to advance. Have they forgotten the glory of their fathers?"

Mentioning his father's name, Hafdan's eyes turned bloodshot. He reached for the iron axe at his waist but couldn't find the source of the sound, and a sudden sense of powerlessness washed over him.

"Alright, since you insist on fighting, count me in."

Relying on the reputation inherited from his father, Hafdan was elected as the commander of the allied forces. Looking at the nobles who were raising their glasses around the long table, he felt no excitement, but rather a deep sorrow.

Back then, his father had his eldest brother, second brother, Vig, Gunnar, Nils, and Om "White Hair" Oleg under his command, which enabled them to build a great enterprise. What does he have now?
With this bunch of brainless idiots around, an epic victory is probably out of the question. Even if Odin were to favor me, I could only manage a minor win at best.

Two days later, the Allied forces emerged from Wael and arrayed themselves at a crossroads ten miles to the west, awaiting the arrival of the Franks.

At 10 a.m., a few French cavalrymen appeared in the south, scouting around the Viking formation. Eric the Younger sent out cavalry to drive them away.

Before long, a cloud of dust rose from the end of the road, and more French troops came into view. He roughly counted them and found that the number of people opposite him was about the same as the scouts had reported. They had a large number of supply wagons, and excluding drivers and servants, the combat force numbered only 4000 to 4300.

Once the formation was complete, the French shield wall slowly advanced. The Viking archers fired five volleys of arrows in succession, causing little casualty, and then temporarily ceased firing.

"Pass down the order: send Favel and the others into battle. Also..."

Hafdan sent a team of messengers. The allied forces were disorganized, flag signals were useless, and most of the nobles were illiterate, so the only thing they could rely on was verbal communication.

Soon, the shield walls of both sides clashed. The French army had only sent two thousand men, and their formation was relatively thin, but more than half of them were armored. They were able to fight to a standstill against the Vikings, who outnumbered them twice as many.

After fighting for some time, seeing the Viking lines on the east flank begin to falter, Fat Charlie considered sending out cavalry, but was stopped by Carloman.

"No rush, let the archers weaken the enemy first."

French arrows rained down on the Viking shield wall like a sudden downpour. Hafdan ordered his archers to return fire, and the exchange of fire lasted for two or three minutes before the Viking arrow rain suddenly stopped.

Hafdan: "Who told them to stop?"

Eric spoke up: "It's me. We've used about 25,000 arrows, and we still have half left. If you use them all up now, what will we do in the rest of the battle?"

Hafdan's anger turned to astonishment. "How could you use it so quickly?"

In the Nordic market, an ordinary arrow was usually worth one penny; 25,000 arrows would be worth about 100 pounds of silver, equivalent to his entire year's savings.

The allied forces had a total of 80,000 arrows in reserve, 40,000 of which came from Vig's generous donation, and the remaining 40,000 arrows were pieced together from various noble families.

The arrows provided by the nobles were of poor quality, with defects in everything from the iron arrowheads and shafts to the craftsmanship of the artisans. Eric the Younger selected 10,000 barely acceptable arrows and gave the remaining 30,000 to the garrisons in various regions.

Observing the disparity in the two armies' formations, Eric was dejected. "We can't match their numbers in cavalry, armor, or arrows. I really don't know where these nobles get their confidence from."

Suffering attacks from both archers and infantry, the Viking shield wall on the left flank (east side of the battlefield) gradually retreated, becoming separated from the friendly forces in the center. Sensing the enemy's weakness, Carloman breathed a sigh of relief and told Fat Charlie, "Your cavalry can move in now."

Soon, a huge gap appeared in the French shield wall, and the Swabian knights, who could no longer contain themselves, launched a charge, heading straight for the junction of the Viking left flank and the center.

As expected, the more than 500 cavalrymen routed the enemy in front of them. Stimulated by the bloodshed, their emotions became even more excited. They shouted various slogans and charged into the deeper part of the enemy formation without regard for anything else.

However, what stood before them were no longer ordinary soldiers, but elite troops fully equipped with iron armor. At the same time, Viking troops on both flanks closed in, also armed with iron armor. It all seemed premeditated; Hafdan had set a trap to lure the French cavalry and then annihilate them.

“Deus adjuva!”

At this moment, the Frankish knights were in high spirits. Unlike the timid and weak farmers, they were even more excited when faced with a powerful enemy.

The French continued their charge. Some horses were felled by lances, but the riders rose from the ground, wielding longswords or chain hammers, and charged at the Vikings again. With this fearless tactic, they overwhelmed Hafdan's carefully laid ambush and continued their charge toward the banner depicting "Burnt Oak."

In the central army, Hafdan was dumbfounded.

"This, this, this is simply unbelievable!"

These Viking warriors included Hafdan's guards (bearskin berserkers), Erik the Younger's royal guards, and shield bearers from other Viking nobles, representing the elite of the entire coalition.

After a moment of stunned silence, he hastily dispatched messenger riders to send the nearest few hundred infantrymen to take over, and they finally managed to hold off these exhausted madmen.

"The time has come!"

The Viking formation was completely disrupted, and Carloman dispatched his own cavalry. In the last battle against Vig, many experienced Bavarian knights had been killed, and their brothers or sons had taken their place. These reserve knights were weaker in combat, but could still be of some use.

Following the commander's banner, more than four hundred cavalrymen bypassed the front of the battlefield and swiftly attacked the weak Viking right flank (the western side of the battlefield).

At this moment, Hafdan had only a little over a thousand militiamen and two hundred cavalrymen left. The militiamen were hardly of any use. He looked at Eric beside him, who sighed with difficulty, "Alright, I'll have them hold off the enemy."

After years of saving and scrimping, Eric purchased warhorses from various sources and used his numerous fertile estates to knights, finally piecing together a cavalry force of two hundred men.

With a look of despair in his eyes, the Norwegian knight resolutely charged towards the fierce Bavarian cavalry. In the instant of the collision, dozens of men died instantly; some were impaled by lances, others fell from their horses and were trampled by countless hooves.
The enemy cavalry was entangled and their speed was greatly reduced. Hafdan hurriedly sent the remaining militia to reinforce them, attempting to overwhelm the enemy with their numerical advantage.

Having barely withstood two cavalry charges, before Hafdan could even catch his breath, Kaloman dispatched his remaining six hundred-odd heavy infantry to focus on attacking the enemy's right flank until they were completely routed.

"Phew, although it was a bit strenuous, I finally managed to deal with these barbarians. It was much easier than last time."

After a crushing defeat on the right wing, Hafdan managed to regroup, feeling as if he were on a leaky, dilapidated ship, unable to stop it from sinking no matter what he did.

Before they knew it, the thousand archers had fired their last arrow, each rubbing their aching arms. Less than five minutes later, Hafdan's messenger horseman ran over, ordering them to grab their shields and iron axes and head to the right flank to block the breach.

"idiot!"

"Hafdan is completely incapable of fighting!"

The archers put down their wooden bows and quivers, grumbling as they changed into shields and axes, and followed their commander into close combat.

After a fierce battle until 1 p.m., the Nordic Allied Forces shrank from their original horizontal formation into a circular formation. Their morale plummeted to a critical point, and then a series of defeats suddenly occurred.

Hafdan seemed to have anticipated this; he and the remnants of Eric the Younger, Lexal, and others banded together and fled eastward to Wael. The French cavalry, exhausted and unable to pursue this still-fighting force, could only turn their attention to the smaller, routed troops.

At four o'clock in the afternoon, the routed soldiers began to retreat back to Wael. By evening, Hafdan had taken a headcount and found that more than three thousand men had been lost outside. After this heavy blow, the Allied forces lost their field combat capability and could no longer prevent the enemy from rescuing the remaining soldiers in Aalborg.

(End of this chapter)