Vikings: Lords of the Ice Sea

Chapter 402 New Land
After a brief period of panic, the nomads regained their morale and began building more ladders.

They migrated here from the distant northern shore of the Black Sea, but the grasslands they left behind had already been divided up by their neighbors. With their escape route cut off, they could only fight to the death in Wallachia.

September 20th, early morning.

The sky was overcast, and a cold wind howled. Two thousand nomads, carrying long ladders, charged toward the city wall under the cover of archers.

The stone wall was about six meters high, and there was a moat about three meters deep around it. The nomads endured the crossbow bolts coming down from above and quickly set up long ladders.

"Charge! Cut down these cowards!"

Armed with scimitars and round shields, they shouted as they climbed the long ladders. Most of them were shot dead by militia crossbowmen, and a few managed to climb the city wall, only to face an attack by elite armored soldiers and were quickly hacked to death by a hail of swords.

At the top of the tower, Alfred stood calmly, as if watching a drama unfold without his involvement. Suddenly, a knight beside him spoke up, reminding him:
"Sir, the brothers are exhausted. Should we use special measures?"

Alfred slowly shook his head. "No rush. Nomadic tribes practice slavery. Large tribes like this usually have two or three thousand slaves who work hard in peacetime and charge to the front lines in wartime to deplete the enemy's arrows."

Even if they lose many more slaves, the nomadic chieftain won't be heartbroken. He'll wait until the ordinary tribesmen and elite troops join the battle, then he'll use special methods to teach them a lesson they'll never forget.

The battle lasted for more than half an hour. The nomads retreated, and the few who ran the fastest were killed. The remaining survivors were gathered together and guarded as the vanguard for the next offensive.

At eight o'clock in the morning, the second offensive began. In addition to the surviving slave soldiers, ordinary nomads and elite soldiers in iron armor also joined the battle.

This attack was much more efficient. Within minutes, a nimble nomadic youth leaped onto the battlements, slashed down the nearest crossbowman with his sword, and scared away two other militiamen. Elite armored soldiers from nearby rushed over upon hearing the commotion and pierced the youth's body with their spears, but more nomads had already surged up from that position.

The defenders formed a gun emplacement, attempting to push the enemy who were scaling the walls off. The nomadic warriors fought in groups of three or five, back to back, trying to get more of their comrades onto the walls.

At the top of the tower, Alfred remained silent, watching the situation on the east and south walls. The reserves had been deployed, but could only hold out for a short time; a steady stream of nomads continued to scale the walls.

Finally, he whispered the command, "It's time."

The knight on the right raised a black flag and waved it wildly, conveying a message to the friendly forces in the north of the city.

A small river flows on the north side of Buzeu. Some people suggested diverting the river water into the moat, but Alfred had a sudden inspiration and rejected the proposal. Instead, he built two sluice gates.

Now, the garrison in the northwest of the city saw the black flag, and more than ten strong men worked together to push the winch and slowly open the sluice gate.

The next moment, the river roared into the trench, carrying mud and forming an irresistible torrent.

The nomadic warriors climbing the ladders were the first to suffer. The water flow violently impacted the bottom of the ladders, causing hundreds of ladders to lose their balance and fall into the river along with the people and ladders.

Not long after, the sluice gate in the northeast of the city was opened, and the surging river flowed in from the northwest of the city, circled the city wall counterclockwise, and carried a large number of panicked nomads out of the sluice gate in the northeast of the city, eventually flowing into the downstream river channel.

"Water! There's water in the trench!"

Panic-stricken cries spread outside the city, and large numbers of nomads were forced to stand at the edge of the moat, gazing futilely at the water, which was about five meters wide.

The defenders' morale soared, and they launched a full-scale counterattack, shouting, "Push them into the river!"

The nomadic warriors on the city wall were isolated and helpless. Looking back, the original trench had instantly turned into a river, which the following troops could not cross.

They were gradually divided and surrounded. Some fought to the death, while others jumped off the city wall and tried to swim back to the other side, only to be riddled with crossbow bolts. Only fifty people survived.

After two consecutive defeats, the attacking side lost 1,400 slave soldiers, 500 ordinary tribesmen, and 500 elite soldiers clad in iron armor. Morale plummeted, and the leader was forced to halt the offensive.

At the top of the tower, Alfred smiled, a smile he hadn't shown in a long time.

"Have the translator shout a message to the enemy: 'Come at me if you dare! I have many more ways to deal with them!'"

Since the remnants of the French army retreated to Italy, Charles the Bald and the nobles read extensively, starting with military books, then engineering and alchemy books, and some even secretly studied pagan texts forbidden by the church, attempting to learn the legendary black magic.

Throughout his long reading career, Alfred accumulated a wealth of knowledge, which, while insufficient to defeat the Viking army, was more than enough to deal with these nomads.

The tribal chief abandoned the attack on Buzeu and sent scouts south, where they discovered that the local inhabitants had taken refuge in ten walled settlements, and the villages in the wilderness were deserted, with no food to be found.

What should I do next?
The chieftain was filled with bitterness. If these towns were not cleared out and the situation dragged on until next spring, the garrison could send light cavalry to harass the tribe, preventing the people from grazing their livestock in peace, and the entire tribe would be plunged into dire straits.

Five days later, the riders who went out to scout reported good news: on the southwestern side of the Carpathian Mountains, there was an incredibly vast plain, large enough to accommodate the entire Magyars tribe.

"you sure?"

The leader sent over a hundred more riders and obtained more detailed intelligence: the area was originally the grassland of the Avar Khanate. Decades ago, this powerful khanate was destroyed by an even more powerful enemy, and the grassland became unclaimed land, without these annoying stone walls.

(In the sixth century AD, the Avars were defeated by the Turks and forced to migrate to the steppes north of the Black Sea. Later, taking advantage of internal conflicts within the Carpathian Basin, the Avars rapidly poured into the basin, where the vast, flat pastures perfectly suited their nomadic lifestyle. The Avar Khanate lasted for over two centuries until it was destroyed by a combined force of Charlemagne and Bulgaria.)
In addition, the Carpathian Mountains are not a mountain range so steep as to be impassable; there are several low-altitude, easily accessible passes and valleys.

Since there was better territory available, the chieftain had no interest in staying in Wallachia and fighting the locals. He sent an envoy to negotiate with Charles the Bald, promising to leave immediately on the condition that he be paid a shipment of grain and hay.

"Why should I?" Bald Charlie roared. "If you take the grain and continue attacking the towns, what am I supposed to do? Unless you hand over the hostages!"

Surprisingly, the leader, named Borchow, agreed. He sent the Franks to the camp to select two hundred hostages, and even though two of the chosen ones were his daughters, he did not back out.

what's the situation?
Bald Charlie instinctively suspected a trap. He asked the five clerks in charge of selecting the hostages, "Have you been tricked into bringing back a bunch of insignificant slaves?"

“Absolutely impossible!” The clerk pointed at the group of hostages. “Look closely, nomadic people at the bottom of society could not possibly have such complexion and physique.”

Bald Charlie was skeptical, but agreed to send five hundred cartloads of hay, promising to pay for the remaining hay and grain once the nomads left the country.

Two days later, news arrived that Borsho had lifted the siege of Buzeu and ordered the people to dismantle their tents and begin the next phase of the long migration.

The Franks sent out another batch of hay and dispatched a large number of riders to scout around. They discovered that the Magyars had not lied; they were indeed crossing the Carpathian Mountains. The October mountain winds carried a chill, and tens of thousands of nomads walked slowly along the ancient road, their horses' hooves making a crisp sound as they trod the gravel path.

The higher they went, the sparser the trees became, and a cold wind howled down from the peaks, swirling dry grass clippings that slapped against everyone's faces.

"How much further?" Borshaw looked worriedly at the old, weak, women and children, and scolded the scout riders with displeasure.

"It's just ahead; we'll reach it once we cross this mountain pass."

Borsho continued walking with his cane. When he reached the highest point of the mountain pass, panting heavily, his view suddenly opened up, revealing a wide and flat valley amidst the rolling mountains.

It was midday, and the sunlight broke free from the shackles of the clouds, generously pouring down and coating the valley with a soft glow.

A small river meanders through the center of the valley, flanked by lush meadows that retain a hint of green. Further away, large forests of beech and birch grow along the gentle slopes, blocking out the cold winds from the outside.

"Great place, you guys did a great job!"

Borshaw praised the scout riders for their contribution and rewarded each of them with a slave, a barrel of wine, and four sheep.

The arduous journey came to an end. Borshaw left most of his people and livestock in the valley for the winter and led more than two thousand riders lightly equipped to plunder the Carpathian Basin.

This area was originally within the Moravian sphere of influence, a sparsely populated region inhabited by a small number of Slavs and Avars who maintained a semi-agricultural, semi-pastoral lifestyle.

Faced with the raids of the Magyar cavalry, and the subsequent fall of surrounding settlements, Borshau received more intelligence and was overjoyed.

"This land is too vast. My Güt tribe only has 50,000 people. Why don't we ask other tribes to come and help us?"

Borshaw returned to the valley and, after much discussion with the elders, decided to send messengers to invite two relatively friendly but weaker Magyars to help him take control of this new land and establish a new Khanate!

In November, in Rendynewum, Vig was processing official documents from various locations.

Four years had passed since the conquest of the Franks, and the cabinet continued to send immigrants from Northern Europe to places like Calais and Paris, totaling 200,000 people, an average of 10,000 immigrants per county.

A review of the sheriffs' reports revealed that all twenty directly administered counties were in financial deficit for the following reasons: each county had to bear the costs of garrisoning troops and suppressing bandits; new immigrants were exempt from agricultural taxes for two years; and Frankish farmers were outwardly compliant but inwardly defiant, resulting in extremely low tax collection efficiency.

In the foreseeable future, the special territories on the south coast of the Strait will still require substantial funding from the Cabinet.

After the war in 873 AD, the total population of the Viking Empire was approximately 15 million, with 3 million in Britain and 2 million in the direct territories on the south coast of the Channel. The remaining 10 million were scattered across continental Europe, largely left to their own devices and receiving almost no direct taxes.

The empire's finances rely mainly on commercial taxes. Last year, its revenue reached £260,000, enough to sustain this vast territory and even have surplus funds to build new large-scale projects.

First, there was a high-standard main road located in West Francia. British goods traveled upstream along the Seine, overland for a distance, and then were loaded onto ships on the upper Saône for transport to the Mediterranean. The cabinet spent a great deal of money building roads to promote commerce and facilitate the deployment of troops in times of war.

In addition, the cabinet plans to build sewers and water channels in large towns to improve sanitation conditions.

The main construction crew consisted of prisoners of war and rebellious peasants. After a certain period, they would be thrown into the New World, or Livonia, Pannonia (the name Grek chose for the kingdom).

Vig reviewed the subsequent documents and found that the empire's finances were sound, food reserves were plentiful, rebellions across Europe were gradually being quelled, and the Eastern Roman Empire was busy dealing with affairs in Asia Minor.
Overall, this year has been a year of steady development.

He finished half a cup of warm cocoa, then took out the last report, which was the exploration results of the Overseas Affairs Department on various islands.

The report indicates that islands such as the Azores, Canary Islands, and Faroe Islands lack guano suitable for large-scale mining. Additionally, eight sailing ships are exploring the Caribbean and South Atlantic in search of a reliable source of nitrates for the empire, with news expected next year.

Last year's war depleted the Empire's gunpowder reserves. To replenish the gunpowder, the cabinet assigned tasks to the county and town chiefs of the directly administered territories, requiring them to organize manpower to scrape saltpeter from the walls of livestock pens. Unfortunately, the yield was very low, and the project was met with resistance from the people.

According to Vig, in the 18th and 19th centuries, Europe's saltpeter mainly came from India and Chile. Currently, there are no sea routes, so people can only rely on sailing ships to explore and search for islands with abundant guano.

Caribbean Sea.

After three weeks at sea, the crew of the Red Falcon were listless and had no interest in chatting. They leaned against the ship's side, gazing into the distance with corn pipes in their mouths.

"There's an island ahead!"

As the lookout called out, the crew looked up. In front of them was only a gray-brown rock, rising abruptly from the azure sea, steep and desolate, like a stone casually tossed aside by some giant.

The captain maneuvered the sailboat closer to the island, anchored, and led a small boat to observe it.

There are no trees on the island, only some low shrubs. Large flocks of birds circle and sing overhead, and the rock walls are covered with a thick layer of bird droppings.

"Bring the tools over here!"

The captain used a hoe to chisel off a pale yellow stone, crushed it into powder, then dissolved it in water and filtered out the impurities, obtaining a bucket of turbid, dark liquid.

Afterwards, referring to the work manual issued by the Overseas Affairs Department, the captain mixed wood ash into the dark liquid, poured it into an iron pot, and boiled it continuously. After cooling, he scraped some crystals off the iron pot and threw them into the fire, producing a small cluster of bright flames.

"Haha, we've finally found it! The brothers' hard times are over!"

Because of its long service life, the Red Falcon was removed from the warship fleet and became a ship under the jurisdiction of the Overseas Affairs Department.

The Vikings monopolized the sea routes to the New World; the Caribbean was devoid of pirates and other navies. The Red Falcon's mission was limited to exploring islands and transporting goods, with little opportunity for combat.

Finally, the captain's luck turned. The Red Falcon was the first to discover Guano Island, and he was eligible to be knighted as a pioneer, or even a baron, and to choose a hereditary territory in the New World. Although he couldn't compare to some of his colleagues in the Old World, he would at least be considered a member of the nobility.

"Hurry up, don't dawdle, the bounty in Puerto Rico is waiting for us."

The captain had the sailors pile up stones at the highest point as a marker to record the island's location, and then eagerly returned to Puerto Rico to report the news.

(End of this chapter)