novelraw Chapter 214: Friend
Chapter 214: Friend
With their retreat route threatened, Leonard and the others were utterly panic-stricken, clamoring to withdraw immediately. Annoyed and distracted by their incessant noise, Ivar could not hold back a roar. "Shut up!"
A sudden, sharp pain flared in his abdomen, instantly cutting off whatever else he was about to say.
Leonard continued his clamoring. "Your Majesty, do not delay any longer. We must rush to reinforce Tamworth. The bulk of our grain is stored there."
Unable to withstand the collective persuasion of the group, Ivar agreed to lead the main force to rescue Tamworth. This meant abandoning Theowulf, but he could no longer afford to worry about him.
On the early morning of May 30th, Ivar led six thousand five hundred men out of Oxfordshire (excluding Theowulf's forces), withdrawing north along the main road.
After a day's march, scattered Frankish army scouts appeared around the road. Ivar dispatched his cavalry to drive them off. Another day passed, and the number of Frankish cavalry increased. The two sides engaged in multiple small-scale cavalry skirmishes, with neither side gaining a clear advantage.
By June 2nd, the number of Frankish cavalry had completely overwhelmed the Vikings. The number of cavalry under Ivar's command dwindled rapidly, and their reconnaissance range was repeatedly compressed.
By the time they arrived beneath the walls of Tamworth, Ivar's cavalry had been reduced to a mere third of its original size. Only three hundred and ten men were still capable of taking the field.
Looking out, Gunnar's Brown Bear banner fluttered high above the walls of Tamworth. Three thousand men of the Frankish army were stationed outside the city, half of them cavalry and the other half mounted infantry.
Just then, a group of Royal Guard soldiers who had defected to Gunnar shouted loudly, "Ivar, your retreat is cut off! You might as well surrender early. His Majesty promises he will not kill you, but will instead transfer your fief and appoint you as an Earl elsewhere."Ivar paid no mind to these insults. Since Tamworth had fallen into enemy hands, he had no choice but to continue his retreat north.
After marching for about twenty kilometers, the demoralized Viking army stationed themselves in Raetia. That very night, the Sheriff of Yorkshire led his militia away without a word. This quickly triggered a chain reaction; more and more soldiers deserted in secret, and the situation within the army rapidly deteriorated.
The next day.
"What do we do now?" Leonard looked at his colleagues, only to be met with faces as equally bewildered and helpless as his own.
At this moment, everyone present was caught in a dilemma. The war was hopelessly lost. Even if they declared their surrender, it was unlikely that Gunnar would accept it—now that the victor had been decided, he had no need to keep these Viking compatriots with questionable loyalty around. He would be better off distributing their territories to his own trusted followers.
After waiting for over ten minutes, Leonard asked the guards at the door, "Has His Majesty not awoken yet?"
"N-No."
Seeing the panicked state of the guards, Leonard also grew alarmed. He barged into Ivar's bedroom, only to find the man lying on the bed in a deep coma, a thick stench of blood wafting from the wound on his abdomen.
He questioned the elderly shaman tending to him by the bedside. "How is his condition?"
The shaman replied, "His old wound has reopened. There is nothing more I can do. We can only hope for the protection of the gods."
Late into the night, Ivar suddenly regained consciousness and had his guards summon Leonard and the other nobles.
"Your Majesty, Leonard has fled!"
At this point, Ivar lacked even the strength to curse. After Pascal Jr. and the remaining four great nobles entered the room, he gritted his teeth against the pain and spoke:
"In the end, it is my incompetence as commander-in-chief that led to our defeat at the hands of Gunnar and Ethelbald. Write a letter to Wigg. Tell him to clean up this mess. Cough, cough... whether he serves as Prime Minister or becomes King in the future, it is out of my hands now."
Once the military clerk finished writing the letter, Ivar struggled to stamp his Wolf Head Seal at the bottom, instructing the great nobles to affix their seals as well. "Let it be so. Perhaps he is the most suitable candidate to proclaim himself king." Meanwhile, in Teyne.
Upon hearing the news of Ivar's death, Wigg's mind instantly went blank. For more than a decade, this man had been his best friend. It was a pity that by walking this path to the throne, he was destined to stand completely alone.
"Did he have any last words?"
Red-eyed, the envoy replied, "Before he passed, His Majesty ordered us to retreat north to Nottingham. There are roughly four thousand men left. You had better arrive as soon as possible, or their numbers will only continue to dwindle."
Sending the envoy away, Wigg sat alone in the hall until late into the night. He then had his guards summon his commanders, including Joren, Butcherbird, Thorkel, Viper, and Bracken.
"Relay my orders to the entire army. Tomorrow, they march south with me to put an end to all of this."
Joren nodded. "Understood, my lord." He paused for a moment before correcting himself. "Understood, Your Majesty."
Seven years had passed since the blacksmith shop forged their very first set of brigandine armor. Since then, roughly five thousand sets of armor had been secretly stored in warehouses across the region. On the surface, Wigg had also amassed two thousand sets of assorted scale armor, lamellar armor, and chainmail (mostly captured spoils), bringing the total to seven thousand sets of armor.
When comparing the defensive capabilities of the various armors, the brigandine armor did not stand out. Its greatest advantage was simply its affordability.
As Stirling's pig iron production increased year by year and its armorers grew increasingly skilled, the manufacturing cost of a single set of brigandine armor dropped to 0.65 pounds of silver (227.4 grams). Under Ming Dynasty standards, this was roughly equivalent to 225 grams of silver. (For context, domestically produced brigandine armor in the Ming Dynasty cost roughly 150 grams of silver.)
In contrast, the cheapest sets of scale armor, lamellar armor, and chainmail cost over two pounds of silver. Wigg lacked the financial resources to make these three types of iron armor standard issue.
"There is no need to pursue absolutely perfect weapons in war. As long as they work, they are good enough."
Today was June 13th. After four and a half months of intensive training, he finally had a serviceable army at his disposal.
Initially, there had been eight thousand soldiers. The worst-performing thousand men were weeded out and reassigned to assist the local garrisons in defending the north, while also being tasked with transporting supplies.
The remaining seven thousand soldiers were divided into five infantry regiments, one mountain infantry battalion, one heavy cavalry battalion (comprising three hundred men), two ranger companies, a supply battalion and a field medical company directly under the legion's command, as well as over six hundred mercenaries.
After numerous adjustments, the total headcount for an infantry regiment was set at roughly one thousand men: six hundred spearmen, two hundred crossbowmen and archers, and one light infantry company responsible for urban combat and reconnaissance. This light company was subdivided into nine duck-and-drake formation squads; although classified as light infantry, they were still equipped with brigandine armor.
Additionally, each infantry regiment had ten mounted messengers, ten medics (responsible for temporary wound treatment before transferring the injured to the field medical company), thirty drummers and buglers, over sixty logistical personnel (grooms, cooks, and military clerks), and forty supply wagons.
The heavy cavalry consisted mainly of barons and knights from various regions. They were tasked with executing frontal charges against enemy formations. Their warhorses were tall and sturdy, boasting immense weight-bearing capacity and explosive power.
The rangers were characterized by their use of soft bows, long arrows, fast horses, and light blades, operating similarly to the frontier scout cavalry of the Ming Dynasty.
They were equipped with lightweight brigandine armor that had some of its plating removed, weighing only six kilograms. Their mounts were crossbreeds between Frankish horses and local breeds. While their explosive power and weight-bearing capabilities were slightly lacking, they made up for it with outstanding stamina, making them perfectly suited for long-distance travel.
The six hundred-plus mercenaries all hailed from the Highland clans. After arguing amongst themselves for a long time, the warriors from the various clans finally elected their most capable fighter to be their commander. This man's name was Douglas; he was tall, heavily built, and looked as though he was not particularly intelligent.
The equipment of the Highland mercenaries was a chaotic mishmash, including—but not limited to—light shields, short swords, iron axes, and light javelins. There were also a few shepherds among them who were highly skilled with slings. Wigg provided an additional fifty sets of iron armor specifically for their commander to wear.