Viking: Master of the Icy Sea

Chapter 267: Field Ballista

As far as the eye could see, the entire port was deserted. The corpses of the Baron's entire family hung from the city gates, left for the ravens to peck at.

"Quick, dig a deeper pit and bury them."

Bracken covered his nose and mouth as he surveyed the area. The Lord's longhouse, the temple, and the warehouses had been reduced to ruins, and the wells were choked with the corpses of people and animals.

"There is no point in cleaning up this town. We might as well build our own camp from scratch."

Having made his decision, Bracken selected an empty plot of land on the southwest side. He began constructing a camp from the ground up, following the specifications for building permanent fortifications.

Over the following week, Fridleif spent his days busy inventorying supplies. Occasionally, he had to dig trenches and drag logs himself, exhausting himself until his hands and feet were covered in blisters.

"Odin above, I finally understand the meaning of 'Marius' Mules'."

In 107 BC, Gaius Marius reformed the military system, establishing a professional army. To reduce reliance on baggage wagons, the marching burden of ordinary soldiers was significantly increased. Their armor, personal belongings, rations, shovels, and camping gear totaled around thirty to forty kilograms. Since their carrying capacity was equivalent to that of a mule, the soldiers earned the moniker "Marius' Mules".

Having endured the arduous marches and backbreaking labor, Fridleif intimately understood the hardships of a soldier. Working from dawn to dusk, he had to maintain absolute focus during his tasks. If an officer caught even the slightest mistake, it would result in a harsh reprimand at best, or a whipping and even public execution at worst.

Gradually, Fridleif grew accustomed to being called "Bob," as if it were his innate identity. His sole purpose now was to obey military orders and fulfill every demand of his superiors.As time passed, a brand-new camp emerged on the southwest coast of Galway. It featured trenches and a five-meter-high wooden palisade. Numerous tents were erected inside, which were gradually replaced by wooden houses. A makeshift pier was also constructed on the beach to allow naval vessels to dock.

"Gods above, what have these Vikings done?"

Witnessing this heavily fortified camp, five rebel army leaders let out cries of astonishment. They had never seen such construction speed, to the point they suspected the Vikings had used magic.

Suddenly, an elderly leader recalled the ancient traditions of the Celts and began chanting the evil-warding incantations of the Druids.

After waiting a long while, a gentle breeze merely brushed past them. The camp standing on the coast remained completely unchanged. Dejected, the five men left.

Two days later, five two-masted brigantines arrived in Galway. This was the temporarily assembled Irish fleet, tasked with patrolling the west coast of Ireland to transport supplies and troops.

At the pier, a young naval officer approached Bracken and handed over a manifest of the supplies.

"Earl, everything you requested has arrived. Please sign for it."

Bracken quickly scanned the list, his gaze locking onto the very bottom—four field ballistas.

'They finally arrived.'

He walked toward the unloading two-masted brigantine, trying to spot the ballistas. The naval officer quietly reminded him, "The ballistas are dismantled for transport. If you are in a hurry to see them, I can have the men assemble one for a test firing."

Upon receiving the order, six crewmen busied themselves on the pier, piecing together metal components, the torsion spring mechanism, and the main frame into a single unit.

Next, a soldier brought out a thick arrow, though calling it a "short spear" would be more accurate. The fletching on the tail of the arrow was not made of animal feathers, but of specially crafted hardwood fins.

Once loaded, the crew aimed at an abandoned rowed longship a hundred and sixty paces away, then slammed a hammer down on the trigger mechanism.

In an instant, the ballista shuddered slightly. The thick arrow whistled as it flew toward the target, only to plunge into the shallows a few meters away under the expectant gazes of the crowd.

The crewmen cursed under their breath and immediately loaded a second shot, which also missed. The naval officer took off his tricorn hat and awkwardly wiped the sweat from his forehead. Finally, the third crossbow bolt hit the abandoned longship, but the shaft merely lodged in the middle of the hull, failing to pierce through.

"Is that it?" Bracken looked disappointed, realizing he had overestimated the power of the contraption.

The naval officer asked, "Earl, what did you intend to use it for?"

"During my stay in Athlone, I heard that the armory had created a ballista capable of field mobility. I planned to use it to bombard the fences and gates of the rebel army strongholds. But from the looks of it, it can pierce through standard wooden plank houses at best."

Hearing his complaints, the naval officer could offer no help. "Uh, we do not produce these things. You should take it up with the Londinium armory, or perhaps the Minister of War and the Minister of Industry."

With the handover of supplies complete, Bracken drafted forty men from various companies for intensive training on operating the field ballistas.

First came disassembly and assembly. The total weight of a ballista exceeded two hundred kilograms. On flat plains, they were transported by baggage wagons, but if the terrain was rugged, they had to be broken down and carried by mules, horses, or soldiers.

Moreover, the operators had to regularly maintain the torsion spring mechanism, replacing overstrained tendons to prevent the ballista's power from deteriorating.

"What a troublesome process," Bracken murmured.

After observing for a long time, Bracken recognized the flaws of such weapons. They were expensive and cumbersome to operate, forcing a choice between power and mobility.

"Forget it. Since we already have them, we will just have to make do."

With the camp constructed and supplies fully stocked, Bracken began sweeping the surrounding areas. He issued an ultimatum that every settlement must provide ten hostages, or else face subjugation.

The settlements in the plains chose to submit, but the tribes in the mountainous northwest remained defiant, ignoring his demands.

Given the situation, Bracken divided his two-thousand-strong force into three segments. Two units split up to suppress the resistance, while the remaining troops stayed behind to guard the camp. They were tasked with supervising the laborers provided by the villages, forcing them to build various facilities such as barracks, warehouses, and a lighthouse.

Led by a local guide, Bracken marched his eight hundred men along winding paths into the mountains. Proximity to the Atlantic Ocean brought strong westerly winds, leaving the local vegetation sparse, with only low-lying shrubs and grass growing, alongside the occasional small cluster of heather.

During the march, Fridleif offered his assessment: "Rugged terrain, sparse vegetation, with deep fjords and steep cliffs. It looks quite similar to the landscape of Glasgow County."

Due to the harsh geographical environment, the settlements here were small and sparsely distributed. Aside from farming, herding, and fishing, the locals also caught seabirds to supplement their diet. Bracken had no interest in tormenting these impoverished commoners from whom no profit could be squeezed. As long as they handed over hostages, all was well.

On their second day in the mountains, Bracken encountered a tribe that fiercely resisted. Their camp sat halfway up a mountain, and they swore never to submit.

"Attack," he commanded.

Bracken deployed two hundred archers and crossbowmen to suppress the enemies on both sides of the mountain path, while the conscripted militia pressed forward with their shields raised. The rebel army was poorly equipped; most of their arrows featured arrowheads fashioned from polished animal bones with abysmal penetrating power, allowing the militia's shield wall to advance smoothly halfway up the mountain.

"Quick, assemble the ballistas! I want to see just how useful these things really are."

Hearing their commander's barked orders, the ballista squad unloaded the various components from the backs of their mules and horses, setting up the ballistas a hundred paces away from the palisade.