Vikings: Lords of the Ice Sea

Chapter 406 Cavalry Rockets and Chariot Formations

Upon hearing news of the Vikings' main force, Borshock immediately perked up and pressed the centurion for details, "How many are on the other side?"

"The enemy has a large number of cavalry, and we were unable to get too close. We estimate there are about 20,000 of them."

Borshow had 32,000 soldiers, including the armies of the three major tribes, as well as vassal tribes he had captured along the way.

In terms of sheer numbers, the Güt Khanate held an overwhelming advantage. However, the Viking soldiers were fully armored and possessed malevolent magical weapons, leaving Borshau lacking confidence for a decisive battle.

He scratched his bald head and thought for a long time, then came up with a plan:
"How about this, we abandon this wagon formation and the enemy's main force, attack their rear, cut off their retreat, and starve these Viking barbarians to death."

The centurion said, "Khan, we scouted westward and found that the Vikings build camps at regular intervals, with walls and moats, making them as defensively capable as Balkan towns. If we can't break through this wagon fortress, we won't be able to capture those camps either!"

As Borshaw hesitated, evening soon arrived. He invited many leaders to drink in the main tent, the atmosphere awkward, the guests looking solemn and filled with worry about the upcoming war.

"What do you think?" Borshaw stroked his golden goblet, tossing the question to those below.

Borshow's true intention was to retreat, but due to his status as Khan, he could not bring it up openly, otherwise it would damage his prestige.

Ideally, the leaders would propose a retreat, Borshaw would feign a rebuke for their cowardice, and then, respecting everyone's wishes, reluctantly order a withdrawal.
With this wonderful idea in mind, Borshaw was full of anticipation, but unfortunately, he waited for a long time and no one spoke up.

He asked again, "To fight or to retreat?"

Still no one answered.

Suppressing his anger, Borshaw casually named an old leader, "Baldy, what are your thoughts?"

Bald Tooth coughed twice and replied in a hoarse voice, "You are the Khan chosen by the gods, possessing supreme wisdom and authority. I will obey your commands."

"Damn old fox!" Borshaw cursed under his breath, then asked the tall, thin leader to the right of the bald-toothed man, "What do you think?"

The tall, thin man picked up his glass, pondered for half a minute, and replied, "A decisive battle has its advantages, and so does a retreat, I think."

After rambling on for a while, the tall, thin man threw the topic back to the Khan, saying, "Whatever your choice, I will absolutely obey."

Borshaw questioned each of the leaders present, but looking across the entire camp, he couldn't find a single "close confidant" willing to share the Khan's burdens.

Everyone wanted to retreat, but no one dared to say it aloud, fearing a reputation for being "cowardly and incompetent." Moreover, they knew Borshaw's character well; he loved to shift blame onto his subordinates, and with numerous precedents, no leader would willingly take on such dirty work again.

Finally, the banquet ended in an extremely awkward atmosphere.

September 30th, early morning.

Borsho pushed the Slavic woman off him, dressed himself with the help of slaves, ate some dried meat and mare's milk, and then convened another meeting of the leaders.

Before everyone was fully seated, a centurion rushed into the tent. "The main Viking force is approaching, about a four-hour journey away. They also said..."

The centurion hesitated for a moment, but under the Khan's questioning, he finally spoke, "The traitors recruited by the Vikings fought against us and sent us back with a message that the Crown Prince is looking forward to fighting you. He believes you are a brave and fearless hero, not a coward who runs away at the first sign of the enemy."

At this moment, Borshaw sadly realized a fact: he had no way out. If he fled without a fight, his prestige would inevitably decline, and his rule would end sooner or later. He might as well fight with his 30,000 troops.

"Since you do not object to going to war, pass on my order: mobilize the entire army and defeat this arrogant young barbarian!"

At seven o'clock in the morning, the nomadic army lifted the encirclement, leaving several hundred cavalrymen to monitor the outer perimeter of the wagon formation, while the main force headed northwest to meet the enemy.

Two hours later, the two sides met in an open field.

Upon receiving a warning from the scout cavalry, Frode immediately took action. Drawing on his father's military treatise, he deployed four of his most elite infantry regiments in front, with two regimental-sized hollow squares on each side, and multiple vehicle formations behind, with support personnel responsible for defense.

The Vikings formed ranks quickly, and once everything was ready, the nomadic army arrived at the eastern battlefield.

Borchow had 31,000 men, the vast majority of whom were light cavalry. As a result, their formation was very spread out, stretching for more than three kilometers from south to north, with a formation thickness of more than three hundred meters, resembling a huge rectangle.

The Güt Khanate lacked a systematic written language and flag signals, and the only way to transmit complex information was through oral commands, resulting in very low command efficiency.

After waiting a few minutes, Frode found that the nomadic army in the distance was still in disarray. He ordered a change in flag signals, sending the four infantry regiments in the front line forward, with the flanks providing cover.

In addition, Frode sent six ranger battalions to harass the enemy's left and right flanks.

"As ordered!"

Six battalion commanders received orders. Santan, the commander of the 4th Ranger Battalion, was responsible for harassing the enemy's right flank (the northern battlefield).

The howling cold wind brushed against my face. Before me stretched a vast, endless army. Sangtan charged ahead, holding his flag high, and occasionally sent out a small squad to deal with the nomads in front of him.

Inside the cavalry, one-third of the soldiers did not carry bows and arrows, but instead carried a metal cylinder slung across their backs.

With only a kilometer left to the enemy lines, Santan reined in his horses, had everyone dismount, and set up the launch platform at a 45-degree angle as quickly as possible.

"Quickly, light the fire! The enemy cavalry is almost here!"

The soldiers frantically struck flints and lit the fuse at the end of the tin cylinder.

zizi~
The fuse ignited rapidly, and the next moment, the iron cylinder spewed out thick white smoke and blazing orange-red flames. It shot out of the launch pad, leaving a blinding trail of flame in the gloomy sky, and whistled as it flew toward the distant nomadic formation.

Other Ranger battalions were also firing, and for a time, rockets could be seen flying everywhere along the wide line stretching for several kilometers, some even turning back halfway through their flight.

The nomadic army occupied a vast area, and more than 70% of the iron cylinders fell into their ranks. The enormous force and the trailing flames frightened the horses and significantly exacerbated the enemy's confusion.

"Stop looking, retreat!" After the rocket launch, Santan didn't have time to clean up the support frame on the ground and returned to the vehicle array to collect a new batch of rockets.

"What is this? Magic? Sorcery?" The commanders gradually realized what was happening and dispatched a large number of cavalry to intercept them.

Thus, in the open space between the two armies, numerous Magyar riders, mountain infantry, and rangers clashed. In some areas, the nomads held off the Vikings. In other areas, the nomads were routed, and the Vikings closed in to within range, continuing to harass the nomadic army with fire arrows.

Finally, without orders, two thousand-man squads on the north side of the battlefield launched a spontaneous attack, yelling as they charged towards the Viking light cavalry. "Charge! Kill these cowards!"

The nearby nomads, unable to contain themselves, joined their allies in the charge. Thousands of horses trampled the grasslands, raising clouds of grayish-yellow dust. The dust mingled with the white smoke from burning gunpowder, gradually obscuring the view on the northern side of the battlefield.

Borshau, commander of the central army of the Güt Khanate, stood atop a supply wagon, gazing at the dust-shrouded northern battlefield. Confused about what had happened, he hurriedly sent men to investigate.

Soon, large-scale melee broke out on the southern side of the battlefield, limiting visibility. Only the central area had relatively clear visibility, where four Viking infantry regiments continued to advance, flanked by phalanxes and followed by a large number of supply wagons.

Borshaw sent out slave infantry and elite cavalry, but it didn't take long for the slave infantry to collapse. The Magyar cavalry were also entangled with Viking cavalry and mountain infantry and were unable to slow down the advance of the infantry regiments.

At a distance of one kilometer, the Viking infantry halted their advance and pushed out hundreds of carts with iron cylinders mounted on them.

not good!

To Borshaw's horrified gaze, a deluge of flaming arrows whistled across the sky, raining down on the cavalry in the center of the army. The steppe horses had never witnessed such a terrifying sight; they were terrified and ran wildly, ignoring their master's commands.

"Quickly, get the formation in order!"

Borshaw coughed as he was choked by the billowing white smoke, still trying to recover, until he heard shouts from not far away.

"The Khan is dead!"

"The Khan has been killed by fire magic! Run for your lives!"

News of the Khan's death spread rapidly, and at this point, even if Borshow were still alive, it would be no different from dying in battle.

"retreat!"

With the situation hopeless, Borshow led his troops to retreat, escaping the smoke-filled battlefield. He discovered that the troops on both flanks were also fleeing for their lives, with fleeing figures scattered across the vast grassland.

These idiots have ruined us!

He cursed inwardly, planning to abandon the direct confrontation with the Vikings and instead retreat to the Carpathian Mountains for the winter.
On the western side of the battlefield, Frode's view was filled with thick smoke and dust. Based on the information relayed from various units, the enemy appeared to be retreating.

He looked at Leif in confusion, "We won?"

Leif was equally puzzled. He didn't believe that the Güt Khanate was so easily defeated. "Uh, it seems so." He worried that the enemy was feigning a retreat in order to launch a counterattack, so he suggested that the crown prince reduce his forces and only allow a little over a thousand surrendered steppe cavalry to pursue them symbolically.

That afternoon, the various units tallied their results: 2,700 enemy soldiers had been killed and over 3,000 slave infantrymen captured. The Vikings suffered even fewer losses: 300 killed and 800 wounded.

Frode, Leif, Viper, and Douglas were all dissatisfied with the meager results achieved after such a arduous effort. With temperatures dropping, Borshow would surely retreat to the Carpathian Mountains for the winter, meaning there was no hope of ending the war this year.

As commander-in-chief, Frode did not shirk responsibility. He truthfully recorded the course of the decisive battle, requested more troops and supplies to be sent from the homeland, and waited until the following spring to attempt another attack.

Five days later, the envoys of the Güt Khanate found the main Viking force and requested peace talks.

The Güt Khanate lost only some vassal tribes and slaves; its core military force remained intact. Frode, disbelieving the enemy's promises, resolutely refused.

"The Empire has spent enormous manpower and resources on this, and Borshaw thinks he can make us withdraw our troops with just a few words? Don't dream. More troops will be sent from the mainland next year until we crush this delusional barbarian."

"Your Highness, Borshaw is dead." The messenger had his attendant bring in a wooden box containing a slightly smelly human head.

The tent was silent. After a moment of stunned silence, Frode summoned seven leaders, including Luntu, and asked them to identify the head.

Looking at the former Khan's head, Luntu instinctively felt fear. He took deep breaths, trying to suppress the fear. After a long while, Luntu reported to Frode, "Your Highness, this is indeed Borshaw."

The envoy continued to explain, “Your Highness, the previous war was started by Borshaw alone, and his wives and children have also been sent here. You can do with them as you see fit. We never intended to offend the Viking Empire; we only hoped to find a place to settle down.”

Frode retorted, "Borshaw's dead, so who do you represent now?"

Messenger: "The new Khan of the Khanate, Ineu."

Luntu kindly explained to the Crown Prince, "Ineu is the leader of another large tribe. He has a good relationship with Borsho, so he probably took advantage of the situation to carry out the assassination."

"Understood, you may all leave now." Frode dismissed most of the others, leaving only Leif, Viper, and Douglas.

Leif's advice was to accept negotiations, as did Viper and Douglas.

The reason is simple: the plains east of the Visegard Mountains are vast, making it difficult to find enemy tribes.

Moreover, even if the Vikings deployed more troops and completely destroyed the Güt Khanate, they still wouldn't be able to control the territory. After some time, steppe tribes would migrate in and launch a new round of raids.

Lef: "The replacement of Borsho by Ineu will lead to a series of internal conflicts, which we do not need to address. Nomadic regimes rise and fall very quickly, and in a while, the Güt Khanate will no longer pose a threat."

After much deliberation, Frode sent his and others' opinions to the mainland, stating that assuming the Emperor and the cabinet did not object, he was willing to accept Ineu's request for a ceasefire.

For the next two months, the Viking army halted its advance and built camps on the eastern side of the Visegard Mountains to prepare for the approaching winter.

In early December, letters arrived from the mainland, and Frode, following the emperor's orders, negotiated a ceasefire with Ineu.

First, there was the border between the two countries. The Vikings possessed the plains west of the Visegard Mountains, the mountains themselves, and the nearby plains to the east of the mountains—used to house eight vassal tribes.

The remaining conditions were lenient; the emperor did not demand Ineu's submission and had no interest in supporting or restraining these nomads.

The emperor showed little interest in the Khanate's commercial requests, and he strictly limited the annual export quota for ironware, whether it was swords, armor, or even common household items like iron pots and hoes.

"Not even willing to sell an iron pot?" The envoy was shocked by the Viking emperor's stinginess and asked urgently, "Your Highness, could you be a little more lenient?"

Frode smiled kindly. "Of course, if a tribe accepts our beliefs and tries farming, we can appropriately increase the annual iron export quota."

The natural conditions of the Carpathian Basin are suitable. Once the Güt Khanate transforms into a semi-nomadic, semi-settled kingdom, its aggressiveness will rapidly decrease, reducing the border pressure on the Vikings in Pannonia.

(End of this chapter)