Viking: Master of the Icy Sea

Chapter 346: Donworth Baronial Estate

On the afternoon of October nineteenth, Charles the Bald received news: the Viking army had departed from the city of Rennes and was marching northeast. Their target appeared to be his current location, the Donworth Baronial Estate.

Studying his parchment scroll map, Charles the Bald realized he could not shake off Wigg's pursuit. Rather than hastily engaging the enemy in the open field, it would be wiser to remain at the estate, construct defensive fortifications, and stall until reinforcements arrived.

He dispatched messenger riders to inform all units to cancel their previous plans and converge on the Donworth Baronial Estate with the utmost speed.

Under a leaden sky, Wigg's army wound its way along the dirt country roads. A palpable thrill of anticipation rippled through the ranks; the soldiers brimmed with energy, eager for the spoils and glory that awaited them after the battle.

As the sun dipped in the west, daylight swiftly faded. In the distance, the blurry outline of a village emerged into view. The area had already been secured by the Rangers, ensuring there were no sizable enemy forces within five kilometers.

Orders echoed down the chain of command: they would make camp here for the night. The marching column quickened its pace, surging toward the village destined for a restless evening.

The local residents had long since scattered. The Vikings found no abandoned food or livestock, and even the cellars had been stripped bare. Military officers dispatched soldiers to chop wood, constructing a makeshift camp centered around the village.

Soon, the scent of woodsmoke and stewing food filled the air. Sentries patrolled the edges of the camp, their silhouettes shifting at the boundary between the faint firelight and the heavy darkness of the night.

With the decisive battle looming, the evening rations were exceedingly generous. The wheat and vegetable soup was packed with large chunks of smoked meat sausage. Soldiers poured in double or even triple their usual serving of fish sauce. The only pity was the strict ban on alcohol within the army, leaving quite a few men deeply disappointed.

After a hasty dinner, Wigg retired to his bed. Having experienced countless wars, he was completely accustomed to this grueling life and suffered no insomnia from the mounting pressure.At dawn the following day, before the sky had even brightened, the sharp blast of a bugle pierced the village's silence. Soldiers rubbed their bleary eyes, dragging themselves up at the sharp urging of their military officers. The men numbly gnawed on hardtack, filled their canteens, and readied their armor and weapons.

By six o'clock, the army had fully assembled. Accompanied by the marching tunes of the military band, the massive, weary serpentine formation began to slither forward. Amidst the gray morning mist of late autumn, they resumed their trudge along the seemingly endless, muddy path of conquest.

With only ten kilometers remaining until the Donworth Baronial Estate, Wigg ordered a halt to their advance.

Sunlight filtered through the scattered clouds, bringing a barely perceptible hint of warmth. The soldiers rested on both sides of the road, casually chewing a few bites of hardtack before dropping to the ground in a deep slumber. A short distance away, the horses snorted and chewed on remnant grass roots. The entire force sank into a heavy, fleeting silence.

At one in the afternoon, the marching column crested a knoll from the west, and the landscape suddenly opened up before them.

The terrain ahead was flat and expansive, covered in vast stretches of plowed winter wheat fields. About three kilometers away stood the grayish-white spired church of the baronial estate. It was surrounded by the baron's manor, a mill, a barn, a scattering of civilian houses, and the endless, rolling tents of the Frankish Army.

Taking the better part of an hour, Wigg deployed his troops into a broad formation suited for a massive assault. The Royal Division held the center, while the Second and Third Field Divisions anchored the left and right wings, respectively. The Cavalry Division was positioned in the rear as a reserve force.

With little more than three hours of daylight left, he had no time for probing attacks. He committed three infantry divisions to the very first wave of the assault.

Urged on by the bugles, the Viking army advanced methodically toward the eastern estate, resembling a slow, surging black tide.

The Frankish Army had also finished arranging their lines. Numbering fewer at twenty-seven thousand, their tactics leaned toward the conservative. Along the western edge of the Donworth Baronial Estate, they had driven thousands of sharp wooden stakes into the ground, spaced about a meter apart, to repel any charges from the Viking cavalry.

As they entered firing range, the archers on both sides sprang into action. They drew their bows and loosed their arrows. A dense barrage of arrows swept across the sky like a swarm of locusts, shrieking as they plummeted toward the opposing infantry.

Beneath this lethal rain of arrows, the Viking pikemen tasked with the frontal advance did not falter in their steps. Wearing iron helmets and black brigandine armor, they were largely immune to the barrage unless a shaft managed to strike an exposed area or a gap in the plating. Similarly, the front-rank infantry of the Frankish Army was also clad in armor, though their equipment was a mismatched assortment, even including pieces looted from the Moors of Iberia.

Thanks to the solid protection of their iron armor, neither side suffered significant losses during the arrow volley. When the Vikings closed into melee range, the brutal close-quarters combat began.

The frontline pikemen of both armies leveled their weapons almost simultaneously. Roaring with fury, they thrust their pikes forward with all their might, attempting to pierce the enemy's armor. A teeth-setting chorus of clashing metal rang out across the battlefield.

The fierce engagement lasted for over ten minutes before the Vikings briefly fell back, rotating in fresh infantry regiments. The Frankish Army mirrored this maneuver, sending their second-line troops to the front.

The armor rate of these second-line troops was less than forty percent, and their morale and training paled in comparison to the Viking soldiers opposing them. After only a brief clash, the Frankish lines began to waver.

Noting the faltering state of the Frankish forces, Wigg, standing atop a makeshift wooden platform, waved his command flags, signaling the frontline units to intensify their assault. Soon, the Viking pike wall pressed steadily forward, causing multiple fractures in the Frankish battle lines.

In an attempt to turn the tide, a massive contingent of Frankish cavalry appeared on the northern flank of the Donworth Baronial Estate, intent on charging the rear flank of the Second Field Division. Wigg immediately dispatched Thorkel's Cavalry Division. Should the Frankish cavalry initiate their charge, Thorkel's riders would strike their exposed flank, severely crippling or entirely routing the unit.

Realizing the sheer peril of such a move, the Frankish cavalry aborted their assault. They remained idle on the northeastern grasslands, locked in a distant standoff with Thorkel's forces.

At two-thirty in the afternoon, the Third Field Division on the southern flank achieved a major breakthrough.

As more and more Viking soldiers flooded into the breach, countless Franks scrambled backward in a crowded retreat, inadvertently exposing the flank of their center army.

At this juncture, after enduring repeated urgings from their commanders, the Frankish cavalry on the northern battlefield was forced to act. They abandoned any thought of hitting the Second Field Division's lines and shifted their target directly to Thorkel's Cavalry Division.

Seeing the Frankish cavalry bearing down on them, Thorkel heeded his king's prior instructions and opted for a prudent approach. He led his cavalry back into the safety of the newly erected wagon fort.

Aside from the two thousand eight hundred combat riders, the Cavalry Division possessed an equal number of laborers. Combined with the laborers from the other three divisions, their sheer numbers approached six thousand.

These men had not been idle. They had used the supply carts to form three massive hollow square formations behind the main army. Arming themselves with crossbows and spears, they stood their ground within the barricades, ready to repel any enemy assault.

Faced with this impregnable setup, the Frankish cavalry found themselves utterly paralyzed. If they attacked the infantry, they would suffer a devastating rear assault from the Viking cavalry. If they brazenly charged the wagon fort, they would simply be throwing their lives away.

The battle was rapidly deteriorating for the Frankish Army.

In the bell tower of the Donworth Baronial Estate's church, Charles the Bald forced himself to maintain composure. He explained to his nephew, Lothar II, and the other high-ranking Frankish military officers:

"From the north, the Earl of Orléans is rushing here with twenty thousand men, and another ten thousand reinforcements are approaching from the south. As long as they reach the battlefield, the situation will certainly turn in our favor."