Viking: Master of the Icy Sea

Chapter 352: The Defecting Count

At the cost of fifteen casualties, Santan routed the group of Frankish Army scouts, killing twenty of them and driving away another seven.

"Pack your things, do not waste any time!"

Having suffered severe personnel losses, Santan was forced to abandon his mission. He headed toward an oak forest five miles to the west, where a mountain infantry company was stationed.

An hour later, nine wounded men received temporary medical treatment in the oak forest. Friendly forces also provided two carts, making it easier for Santan to transport the injured back to the main camp.

'It has not even been a month since my promotion to platoon leader, yet I run into this kind of mess. I wonder how the higher-ups will view me?'

At dusk, Santan led his troops back to the camp. He ordered his men to send the wounded to the medical station, while he went alone to the company headquarters to report, bringing along a cart full of captured armor.

"It seems luck was not on your side," the company commander remarked as he counted the stack of helmets, realizing his subordinate had failed to complete the reconnaissance mission.

"The enemy scouts were equipped with crossbows..."

Santan recounted his experience. Since he was illiterate, the company clerk drafted the combat report on his behalf. Half an hour later, the report was dispatched to the battalion headquarters. The battalion commander, sensing the severity of the situation, immediately forwarded the document to the division headquarters.

In this manner, the report traveled up the chain of command, layer by layer, until it finally alarmed Wigg."Crossbow cavalry again. How many times does this make?"

A staff officer replied, "This is our third engagement with crossbow cavalry. Judging from the casualty exchange ratio, the combat effectiveness of the Frankish Army scouts has improved."

Going by current trends, the Frankish Army scouts were rapidly adopting the crossbow. Although crossbows were slow to reload, they perfectly compensated for their lack of ranged attack capabilities. Training horse archers was far too difficult, making crossbow cavalry much more suitable for the Frankish Army's current predicament.

This was a very dangerous phenomenon. The enemy had not been crushed by their previous defeats; instead, they were actively employing new tactics. Wigg stared intently at the map on his desk and decided to push more chips onto the table.

He ordered Leif to send a ciphered message to the Royal Palace, instructing them to use the shares of various companies held by the Royal Family as collateral to secure private loans. These funds would be used to recruit Eastern Europe infantry or steppe cavalry.

"Including the shares for the paper mills, the brewery, and the football clubs?" Leif asked in disbelief.

Wigg nodded. "Aside from the newspaper agency, the ironworks, the military equipment arsenals, and the shipyards, all other shares fall within the scope of collateral. While they are at it, they should sell off all the vacant land in the eastern part of Londinium. The Crown Prince lacks experience, so put Heregyth in charge of this specifically. She needs to raise at least fifty thousand pounds."

The feud between the two sides had now escalated into a battle to the death. If he still could not bring Francia to its knees, Wigg would go all in with every chip he had—by initiating a total, kingdom-wide mobilization.

On March 22nd, the expeditionary force arrived at the banks of the Loire River. On the southern bank sat the city of Tours, where the garrison was frantically destroying the pontoon bridge spanning the water.

The river was relatively narrow in this section, only about 150 to 200 meters wide. Wigg ordered his soldiers to fell trees and construct a large number of trebuchets, preparing to bombard the city walls from across the river.

At the same time, Wigg dispatched his Rangers to scour the vicinity for boats. Eventually, they found twenty small vessels in a fishing village thirty miles upstream.

Taking advantage of the garrison's lax defenses, the Vikings infantry crossed the river on the boats. By the time the defenders realized what was happening, an entire infantry regiment had already secured a foothold on the southern bank.

The Frankish Army's primary defensive zones were concentrated around Paris, Harfleur, Calais, and other similar regions. The garrison at Tours consisted of a mere two thousand five hundred men, the vast majority of whom were hastily conscripted militia.

"Quickly, drive them back into the river!" The Count of Tours brought forth one thousand five hundred men, throwing all his forces into the fray at once, but unfortunately, it yielded little result. The fifty-odd cavalrymen who led the initial charge were met with a concentrated volley of arrows and bolts. Most of their warhorses were shot down on the spot. Only a dozen or so warhorses managed to carry their riders to the enemy lines, where they were promptly skewered to death by a dense thicket of spear thrusts.

The pursuing Frankish Army infantry was then subjected to a fierce ranged bombardment, instantly stalling their charging momentum. This was especially true for the militia, who lacked proper armor. Raising their shields, they huddled closely together with their comrades in a desperate attempt to evade the omnipresent rain of arrows.

In the end, only three hundred or so heavy infantry actually engaged the Vikings in close combat. Before long, the Frankish infantry completely collapsed and routed. However, since the Vikings lacked cavalry, they failed to achieve any significant results during the ensuing pursuit.

On March 27th, two infantry regiments marched to the eastern side of Tours, chopped down trees to construct a fortified camp, and then began digging trench tunnels.

Having performed these operations multiple times, the Viking sappers had grown highly proficient. Their trench-digging efficiency steadily increased, and it took them merely twenty days to tunnel right beneath the city walls. Upon reaching their mark, Wigg ordered a full-scale assault.

After breaching the city, he ordered his men to round up the local fishermen and interrogate them separately. He needed to gather detailed hydrological information about the Loire River: seasonal water level fluctuations, the locations of hidden reefs, which sections had rapid currents, and which areas were prone to running ships aground...

Two days later, he received a report from Utgard: they had successfully captured Angers.

"Nantes, Angers, Tours... I now control the major towns along the lower reaches of the Loire. The riverine fleet can transport troops and provisions directly up the waterway, immensely alleviating our logistical pressure. The objective for the first phase has been flawlessly achieved."

After some more time passed, the Eastern Europe infantry that the cabinet had hired last year finally arrived at the frontlines. Totaling four thousand men, their addition boosted the expeditionary force's overall numbers to fifty-seven thousand.

Wigg organized them into four garrison regiments, inserting a small handful of military officers and translators into their ranks. He planned to use them to carry out various low-value tasks.

Further upstream lay Orléans, a crucial stronghold in central Francia. It had been settled as early as the Gallic period and was later rebuilt by the Roman Emperor Aurelian. According to the intelligence gathered, the city boasted nearly ten thousand residents, making its scale second only to Paris.

On May 1st, Wigg departed from Tours. His forty-five thousand soldiers advanced simultaneously by land and water along the river course, marching toward Orléans, over a hundred kilometers away.

The following afternoon, as the army was setting up camp, an unexpected visitor requested an audience with Wigg.

A sentry bluntly demanded, "Who are you?"

The middle-aged man lowered his cloak. "Jean de Poitiers. I heard that the King is recruiting men of talent, and I wish to pledge my loyalty to him."

"Oh, I know you. You are that lost general." The sentry and his companions burst into uncontrollable laughter before sending someone to notify their superiors.

It did not take long before a squad of the Royal Guard approached. They searched him, briefly verified his identity with a few questions, and then escorted him to the riverbank, where the King was currently fishing.

The setting sun was slowly sinking into the west, its residual heat lingering in the air. Wigg sat on a folding camp stool, resting his chin on one hand as he gazed blankly at the scenery before him.

The river flowed at a gentle pace, with vast patches of reeds growing along its banks. A white egret took flight silently from the reeds, its wings skimming the surface of the water as it snatched up a river fish and glided toward a sandbar in the middle of the channel.

The southern bank was a vast expanse of flat, open grassland. Several cows were scattered across it, leisurely grazing on the green grass. Their shadows, stretched long and thin by the slanting rays of the setting sun, shifted silently across the ground.

"Sir Count, what is it that you desire?" Wigg's gaze remained fixed on the surface of the river, while information regarding his visitor surfaced in his mind.

Last year, Charles the Bald had led his army in a retreat back to Paris. He shifted all the blame onto Poitiers, stripping him of all his titles and throwing him into prison. Afterward, Poitiers managed to bribe the jailers and miraculously escaped from Paris.

Poitiers replied in Latin, "Your Majesty, I have a method to help you swiftly conquer Orléans. Please accept my allegiance."