Viking: Master of the Icy Sea

Chapter 303: Elbe River

On the way back to their garrison, Ingvar pressed Leif for information. "Which unit is hunting us down?"

"Charles Potini, a baron under Gunnar's command. The man had been waiting endlessly for his supply train. Growing impatient, he sent his cavalry to search the rear, and they ended up catching us."

What should have been a flawless victory had devolved into a rout. Leif harbored a deep hatred for this baron named Charles. If the man had acted just a fraction faster, the Marine Battalion's casualties would have been even higher.

Following the attack on his supply convoy, Gunnar withdrew his forces from southern Denmark. The survival of Louis the Younger was no longer his concern; his primary objective now was to keep a close eye on Wigg and prevent him from stirring up even more chaos.

Consulting his maps, Gunnar dispatched riders to the settlements along the middle and upper reaches of the Elbe River. He ordered them to make early preparations to prevent the Viking fleet from penetrating any further inland.

In truth, Wigg harbored no such intentions for the time being. He currently commanded a marine force of only three thousand men. Their numbers were simply too small; even if they managed to capture the towns along the upper and middle reaches, he could not spare enough troops to garrison them.

On May eighteenth, reinforcements were transported from Esbjerg to Hamburg. Wigg worried that Gunnar might be lying in ambush somewhere, merely waiting for the perfect moment to deliver a fatal strike.

Unwilling to repeat the tragedy that had befallen Niels at Magdeburg, he opted to remain in Hamburg. He ordered his troops to repair their defensive fortifications while observing Gunnar's next move.

Coincidentally, Gunnar also lacked the desire to initiate an open battle. He dispersed his infantry across various towns to assist the local lords in constructing defenses, attempting to completely blockade the upper and middle sections of the river.

By the end of May, not a single skirmish had broken out between the two sides. Both commanders were waiting for the other to expose a fatal flaw, plunging the war into a dull and tedious stalemate.Stationed at the northernmost point was the army of Louis the Younger, while the central region of Denmark was held by the Northern European Allied Forces. To the south, Wigg's troops occupied Hamburg, and further south still lay Gunnar's reinforcing Frankish army.

Upon closer inspection, each faction faced its own unique difficulties. Gunnar possessed two thousand cavalrymen, an equal number of mounted infantry, and over three thousand regular infantry. While his field combat strength was the highest, his horses consumed an exorbitant amount of grain, requiring his supply lines to remain unobstructed at all times.

If Gunnar marched into Denmark, he would be leaving Wigg free to conquer the strongholds along the Elbe River and sever the Frankish army's supply lines. Even if Gunnar successfully occupied Denmark, he would be cut off from his provisions and ultimately succumb to starvation.

Wigg's primary weakness lay in his severe lack of cavalry. The moment he strayed too far from the river and the coastline, his supply convoys would become incredibly vulnerable to raids by Frankish cavalry. Thus, he was forced to adopt highly conservative tactics.

Fortunately, his homeland possessed an abundance of stored grain, ensuring he had more than enough provisions to outlast his enemies in this prolonged standoff.

June first.

Late into the night, over a dozen oared longships drifted downriver, silently approaching the pontoon bridge that spanned the water.

"Move faster, do not let the Vikings spot you."

Urged on by their military officer's hushed commands, the ships drew right up to the pontoon bridge. Frankish soldiers used iron saws to repeatedly cut through the wooden deck. They remained on high alert throughout the entire process, terrified of alerting the Hamburg garrison stationed nearby.

Through relentless effort, they achieved their goal. A central segment of the pontoon bridge broke free from its moorings and drifted away with the current, creating a gaping hole in the structure over twenty meters wide.

"Quick, send the signal!"

The military officer patted a soldier on the shoulder. The man immediately mimicked the call of a night bird, signaling the fire ships anchored upstream.

After an anxious wait, over a hundred small boats laden with firewood finally arrived. They passed through the gap in the pontoon bridge one by one, sailing straight toward the Viking fleet moored along the banks of Hamburg.

Two hundred meters. One hundred meters.

Fifty meters.

Suddenly, the leading fire ship jolted to a violent halt. A Frankish soldier rushed to the bow and discovered a river-blocking iron chain stretched tight across the water. Weighed down by its own heavy iron links, the chain sagged just enough to be completely submerged beneath the river's surface. That was exactly why those damned scouts had failed to spot it!

Moments later, more and more fire ships crashed into the iron barrier, piling up uselessly across the surface of the river. Some men desperately hacked at the thick links with iron axes, but their frantic blows left not a single dent.

"Who goes there?!"

The garrison troops stationed in the watchtowers on both banks noticed the commotion in the middle of the river and immediately sounded the alarm bells. A few men attempted to shoot at the enemy with longbows, but the distance was simply too great. Their oil-soaked fire arrows traced bright arcs through the darkness before plunging harmlessly into the water.

On the shore, warning bells chimed one after another across the various encampments. Swarms of Viking warriors poured out of their barracks, assembling in disciplined silence under the watchful eyes of their junior officers. Anyone who dared to make a sound without permission would face a severe lashing.

Down by the riverbank, the sailors sleeping below deck jolted awake. Despite the pitch-black visibility, they knew the layout of their ships by heart. They swiftly rolled up their hammocks and rushed to their stations, ready for orders.

Peering into the distance, the sailors noticed faint, silvery glints sparkling across the surface of the river. It was the reflection of moonlight bouncing off unsheathed weapons.

"A night raid?"

A captain roared out commands, ordering his men to haul up the iron anchors and unfurl the sails. They skillfully maneuvered their longships away from the shore, scattering to avoid being clustered together and incinerated by the incoming fire ships.

After quite some time, the entire fleet had fanned out across the broad expanse of the Elbe River. Meanwhile, the Frankish crews on the fire ships were still utterly failing to sever the river-blocking iron chain.

Realizing the operation was a failure, the crews shoved their piles of firewood into the river, grabbed their oars, and began rowing frantically back upstream. In the dark, the Viking fleet could not aim accurately, managing to sink only two unfortunate enemy boats. The supposed surprise attack ended in a hasty and embarrassing retreat.

By daybreak, the Frankish vessels had returned to their starting point. They reported the disastrous outcome of their mission to Carloman, who received the news in stony silence. Standing by his side, Gunnar seized the opportunity to offer his counsel:

"I warned you earlier. Wigg is treacherous and endlessly cunning; parlor tricks like this will never work on him. How about this: allow me to stay behind and keep an eye on Hamburg to ensure Wigg does not attack the upstream settlements. You two brothers can head to Denmark, retrieve Louis the Younger, and withdraw your forces immediately. The Jutland Peninsula is a desolate wasteland now. Forcing an occupation there is entirely pointless."

"We have to go to Denmark again?" Charles the Fat asked, his voice laced with lingering dread. He had yet to fully step out of the dark shadow cast by their previous defeat.

However, upon further reflection, he realized that sending Gunnar to Northern Denmark would mean he had to stay behind and face Wigg's army himself. Weighing the two dreadful options, he ultimately agreed to Gunnar's proposal, deciding to brave Denmark one more time alongside his older brother, Carloman.

Right before their departure, Charles the Fat remained deeply anxious. "What if Wigg abandons Hamburg and sails to Denmark to cut us off? What do we do then?"

"Boarding and disembarking an army takes a great deal of time. It is nowhere near as simple as you think," Gunnar reassured him. "If he does set sail for Denmark, the worst-case scenario is that I will simply follow him there."

Despite Gunnar's promise, the two brothers simply could not put their minds at ease. A dark, cowardly thought even began to fester in their hearts—the temptation to cower in northern Germany and passively watch as their brother, Louis the Younger, was entirely wiped out.

Yet, the nature of this war was heavily scrutinized. Louis had taken up arms under the righteous banner of eradicating pagan pirates, earning the unanimous backing of the church, the nobles, and the common folk. Even the lands of Bavaria and Swabia echoed with overwhelming cries of support for him.

If Carloman and Charles the Fat dared to do anything too disgraceful, they would be handing their uncle, Charles the Bald, the perfect pretext to declare war and eliminate his two disobedient nephews once and for all.