Vikings: Lords of the Ice Sea

Chapter 343 Initial Contact
On August 10, the 1st Field Division arrived in Brest, and with ample troops, Vig began its attack on the northern port of Saint-Malo.

The actual voyage between Southampton and Saint Malo is approximately 370 kilometers, and can be completed in 2-3 days under favorable wind conditions. If the fleet encounters a storm en route, it can also seek shelter in the Channel Islands, securing the port and facilitating subsequent transport.

Upon arriving at the outskirts of the city, Vig used the same tactics as before, ordering the engineers to dig tunnels. To deceive the enemy, he selected twenty locations to work on simultaneously, three-quarters of which were camouflage, with only five tunnels being genuinely dug.

Looking at the filthy engineering soldiers, Prince Frey muttered to himself:
"Are we going to use this tactic for sieges forever? It's too boring. And what if the enemy develops a countermeasure against this tactic?"

Chief of Staff Leif explained to his cousin, "Tactics have been constantly evolving over the years. This applies to both sides. When we use new tactics to defeat the enemy, they suffer losses and will try to avoid further defeats."

Before setting out, the army academy devised some ways to counter tunnel warfare tactics; the French would figure them out sooner or later too. We must take advantage of this precious time difference to capture as many enemy towns as possible.

As time passed, the trenching work proceeded in an orderly manner. Vig ordered his soldiers to clean up the surrounding noble estates and continue to collect food and warhorses.

In previous battles, the Vikings captured 300 warhorses and more than 700 packhorses. They suffered few losses attacking the manors, and their mopping-up forces overwhelmed the minor lords' militia in every way. Battles usually lasted less than ten minutes.

On August 17th, at the besieged camp, Vig was lecturing newly enlisted military cadets. “Suppose your unit gets lost in the wilderness, you should make the following arrangements,” he said.

Suddenly, Leif rushed into the classroom and told the king some bad news: an enemy army of tens of thousands was approaching.

"understood."

Vigé dismissed the class, returned to the central command tent, examined the map on the table, and picked up a blue flag representing the French army. He placed it on the east side of Saint-Malo.

Based on past battles, it was unlikely that Charles the Bald could assemble his forces quickly. The French army was estimated to number between 1 and 2, and Viger was confident he could handle them.

"Send out all the remaining rangers, and continue the siege as usual."

Meanwhile, a meadow forty kilometers east of Saint-Malo.

Four scouts clad in chainmail rode slowly through the undulating grass, cautiously surveying the landscape. Their vision consisted only of green grass, the sky, and a small grove of trees in the distance.

Suddenly, ten riders burst out of the woods, dressed in khaki cloth armor, and charged straight at the four French scouts. The distance between them narrowed to thirty paces, and the light, rapid twang of bowstrings sounded like a sudden downpour.

The arrows aimed at the upper body of the French scouts but failed to penetrate their chainmail. The attackers then turned their fire on the scouts' horses.

Not long after, a tall and strong black horse neighed in pain, its front hooves suddenly buckled, throwing the unsuspecting cavalryman forward. Its heavy, armored body crashed onto the grass, rolling and crushing a large patch of green grass.

Immediately afterwards, the second horse collapsed, and the third... The heavy thuds echoed one after another, and the scouts struggled to their feet, like overturned beetles.

The rangers reined in their horses, forming a circle that was neither too tight nor too loose. They sat upright on their saddles, calmly looking down at the struggling scouts, their eyes indifferent, like experienced hunters observing prey caught in a trap. After a few seconds, a short whistle blew, and one of the rangers spurred his horse forward, charging towards a scout who was just trying to prop himself up.

The man's longsword was still swinging in vain, trying to protect himself. The ranger simply tugged the reins, and his mount deftly dodged the blade. The cavalry saber in his hand precisely grazed the neck, which was not covered by the chainmail. Hot blood spurted out and splashed onto the green grass. The light in the scout's eyes was extinguished instantly, and his body fell heavily back to the dust.

The remaining rangers spurred their horses forward, their movements swift and skillful, quickly eliminating the remaining three French scouts.

The battle was over. The ranger nimbly dismounted and walked toward the corpses scattered in the grass. The air was filled with the rusty stench of blood and the faint, dying neighs of horses.

They skillfully looted the spoils, pulling out bloodstained swords and cutting off heavy money bags, then working in pairs to strip the scouts of their chainmail.

After a brief moment of activity, a ranger pulled out his tin canteen, his eyes instinctively glancing at the distant green horizon. He turned pale with fright and quickly warned his companion in Pecheneg.

"Squad leader, there are enemies."

The others looked in the direction he was pointing, and their hearts tightened. On the horizon, they saw more than twenty blurry shadows rapidly expanding and closing in on their location.

As a sergeant squad leader, Santan immediately issued the order: "Withdraw, leave the four longswords as proof, and discard the chainmail and helmet."

He scrambled onto his horse and fled at top speed, with the remaining nine men close behind. The rangers drew their bows and fired, hoping to slow the pursuers. But in their panic, coupled with the violent shaking of their galloping mounts, the hastily fired arrows all missed their mark, causing no casualties.

After a long chase, the two rangers gradually fell behind. They did not obey their squad leader's orders and were unwilling to give up the chainmail and other spoils of war. Their mounts were panting heavily, foaming at the mouth and nose, and their speed had obviously slowed down.

Seeing no way to escape, the two exchanged a desperate glance and split up to retreat to the left and right. The two Frankish scouts who were closest in pursuit followed suit without hesitation. One of the scouts spurred his horse forward like the wind, straightening his back slightly in his saddle. Using the momentum, he drew a cold arc with his longsword, which he gripped tightly in his right hand. As the sword flashed, the fleeing ranger and his mount lurched forward.

Not long after, another ranger also died at the hands of a French scout, prompting Santan to curse, "Foolish idiot who values ​​money over life."

Half an hour later, the chase continued. Santan and the others escaped to a fork in the road. There were two charred wooden stakes stuck in the grass nearby, and some rubble was placed next to them.

"Go this way!"

Santan led his brothers to flee south. Before long, a large grove of sycamore trees appeared ahead. Santan imitated the birds' calls, and the next moment, the same birdsong came from the grove.

Seeing this, the surviving rangers disappeared into the woods, but the French did not give up the pursuit. A few minutes later, a barrage of arrows suddenly flew from the woods on both sides. The French scouts were caught off guard, their horses were shot down one after another, five men were killed, and the remaining seventeen were forced to surrender.

"Thank you for your help, otherwise the brothers would have been completely finished this time." Santan found the company commander of the mountain infantry company, thanked him loudly, rested for more than half an hour, and then escorted the prisoners back to camp to report.

(End of this chapter)