novelraw Chapter 184: A Landing Full of Mishaps
Chapter 184: A Landing Full of Mishaps
That night, the command echelon spent the night at Ulf's Candle Keep, enjoying what might be the final lavish dinner of their lives.
Fueled by wine, Ulf complained, "I am truly speechless. As Vikings, we actually bungled the simple act of boarding our ships. Do not tell me we will be fighting tooth and nail on the shores while those fools are still wasting time in Londinium."
Facing his first battle, Pascal Jr. was deathly pale, staring blankly at the pan-fried lamb chops on his plate. The other seven Swedish nobles showed no fear, focusing their attention instead on this magnificent castle they had never seen before.
After a bout of whispering, Rekker, the lord of Kalmar, asked their host, "How much did it cost to build this castle?"
Looking at these ignorant country bumpkins, Ulf began to show off. "Not bad, about one thousand and thirty pounds. Although it was a bit expensive, it is completely worth the price."
How much? A mere stone house actually cost more than Kalmar's revenue for twenty years!
The seven Swedish nobles exclaimed in unison. This profound shock turned into immense pleasure in Ulf's heart, making him unable to resist pouring himself another glass of wine.
Wigg frowned. "Drink less. We have a battle to fight tomorrow!"
Ulf slurred, somewhat incoherent. "Why? We fight desperately for nothing more than beautiful women, fine wine, and good food. Do not stop me... ugh, do not stop me."
After repeating this a few times, Ulf suddenly collapsed onto the table, falling sound asleep and allowing the dark red wine to soak into his clothes.Wigg summoned two maids. "Help your master down to rest." Then he addressed Pascal Jr. and the seven Swedish nobles. "Go to sleep early. We will gather at the docks tomorrow morning and wait for the right wind."
Early the next morning, a brisk northwest wind blew across the sea. Wigg did not hesitate any longer, immediately ordering the soldiers to board the ships and set sail for Calais on the opposite side of the channel.
Navigational technology of this era was rudimentary. The command echelon knew perfectly well that the enemy had set up defenses in Calais, yet they still chose the Strait of Dover to minimize the risks during the voyage.
Seagulls cried out, and the sails billowed tight. The fleet cut through the waves like arrows loosed from a bowstring, the bows cleaving the ink-black seawater. Watching the spray splashing against the hull, a soldier began to sing a sea shanty, which soon evolved into a roaring chorus across the entire fleet.
Before they knew it, the White Cliffs of Dover behind them vanished into the mist. Around ten o'clock in the morning, the wind suddenly grew fierce. A sudden, violent westerly gale swept across the entire fleet. Wigg's flagship struggled forward amidst the severe turbulence, the cabins filled with anxious rumors and whispered prayers.
"Signal with the flags! Tell all units to lower their sails and row forward!"
After wasting over two hours, the coastline ahead gradually became clear. The crew cheered for surviving the ordeal, but Wigg's face was gloomy as he stared at two figures on horseback on the sandy beach.
As the fleet began to land, the two Frankish riders fled the beach. Seeing this, a strong sense of urgency surged in Wigg's heart. He ordered his two directly subordinate infantry regiments to speed up their pace and deploy an anti-cavalry formation around the perimeter of the landing zone.
Compared to the last time, the spearmen were now entirely equipped with iron armor and no longer needed to rely on shields to defend against arrows. Thus, they had switched to three-and-a-half-meter spears, held with both hands, which were half a meter longer than the three-meter lances used by the shock cavalry.
At two o'clock in the afternoon, Frankish cavalry began to approach one after another. Looking from afar, the outermost Vikings crouched down, planting the butts of their spears into the ground with the sharp, lethal tips angled upward, resembling a massive hedgehog covered in iron spikes.
After a probing attack, the Frankish cavalry suffered over a dozen casualties from crossbow bolts and spear thrusts. They temporarily retreated to a hill on the southwest side, waiting for their main forces to arrive with reinforcements.
Another hour passed, and a thousand cavalrymen amassed on the hill. Sharp-eyed Vikings spotted Gunnar's Brown Bear banner and loudly cursed the enemy as traitors. "Stop cursing and save your strength. We still have a lot of work to do."
Wigg directed the two infantry regiments to advance slowly, hoping that some hot-headed Frankish knights would take the initiative to attack.
On the southwestern hill, Gunnar instantly recognized his old friend's black Serpent banner. He yawned, his tone filled with regret. "That is the North's Serpent, the commander of the battle on the banks of the Seine back then. We will not gain any advantage here. Let us retreat."
Seeing Gunnar pull his reins to turn his horse around, several Frankish nobles beside him loudly demanded he stop. The young Count of Orleans, William, insisted on fighting.
"Since this man's commanding abilities are so outstanding, we should take this opportunity to strike him down while he is separated from his main army. Otherwise, if he is allowed to lead a massive force, would not the losses he inflicts be even greater?"
Subsequently, William persuaded the others to follow him, rallying over seven hundred cavalrymen to launch a charge. The result confirmed Gunnar's suspicions.
After dozens were shot down by arrows and crossbow bolts, the Frankish cavalry charged to the edge of the pike phalanx. The warhorses sensed the danger of those cold iron spikes and refused to take another step forward. The cavalry attempted to thrust their lances at the half-crouching infantrymen, but unfortunately, their reach was insufficient. Instead, the rear-guard infantrymen knocked over a dozen riders with throwing axes.
With the attack having failed, the young Count William returned to the hill with a gloomy face, squeezing out a single word, "Retreat!"
Considering this reckless youngster was the younger brother of Queen Ermentrude, Gunnar did not hold his offense against him. He led the troops to fall back five miles, keeping a watchful eye on this Viking force while sending a message to the rear, suggesting that Charles the Bald rush over with reinforcements as quickly as possible.
Having repelled the Frankish cavalry, Wigg interrogated the captives and learned that the fleet had actually been blown by the sea winds to Dunkirk. This place was located to the east of Calais, and the two locations were a day's journey apart.
Cursing under his breath, he marched west along the coastline. At dusk, they occupied a deserted fishing village. He dispatched a ship back to Britain to deliver a message, planning to rest here temporarily until reinforcements arrived.
On the morning of the third day, Wigg was awakened by a messenger. Ivar the Boneless had set sail yesterday, but his fleet had been scattered by the fierce winds. The coastline to the west of Calais was swarming with small, wandering bands of Vikings.
"Damn it, where is Ivar the Boneless?"
The messenger replied, "On a beach west of Calais, half a day's journey from the city."
Worried that Ivar the Boneless's disorganized troops might be attacked, Wigg gathered his forces and rushed toward Calais at full speed. The cavalry led by Gunnar chose to tail them, never initiating an attack the entire way.
In the afternoon, the six thousand men led by Wigg joined forces with five thousand allied troops. Ignoring the cavalry's harassment, the ten thousand-strong army began constructing a siege camp.
Thanks to the frequent trade in recent years, Calais had developed into a bustling town of two thousand residents. In addition to the original wooden palisade, the Franks were constructing a new stone city wall around the perimeter, which was currently unfinished.
During the siege, a steady stream of ships set sail from Dover, transporting pre-built siege engines to the besieging army, shipping them in a dismantled state as components.
Wigg had the craftsmen reassemble them. This included ladders, mantlets, battering rams, and small, five-meter-tall siege towers.
Watching the increasingly busy siege camp, Gunnar, who was observing from a distance, felt completely helpless. The cavalry under his command was unsuited for a forceful assault on the camp, and the conscripted militia had low morale. With only three thousand men, they were just as useless.
Enduring the complaints of William and the other nobles, he silently watched as Wigg and Ivar the Boneless launched their all-out assault.