Viking: Master of the Icy Sea

Chapter 353: Orléans

Beauval picked up a branch and sketched the rough terrain of Orléans on the riverbank.

"The walls of Orléans are tall and sturdy. The city has a garrison of three thousand men, and now that they have caught wind of our arrival, that number will surely increase."

To emphasize his own value, Beauval exaggerated the difficulty of attacking Orléans, then pointed the branch toward the northeast corner of his makeshift "city."

"Two years ago, the Orléans region suffered a prolonged period of continuous autumn rain. The foundation softened, causing the tower in the northeast corner and the adjacent wall to collapse. Earl William recruited stonemasons to repair the wall. I know one of those stonemasons—the man was greedy by nature, and his only saving grace was his eloquence, making him exceptionally good at swindling his employers.

"Because of this, the structural integrity of that section of the wall is definitely compromised. If you bombard it with ballistas or trebuchets for a few days, I guarantee the wall will crumble."

After listening to Beauval's suggestion, Wigg countered, "Constructing large trebuchets takes a month, perhaps even longer. Why not use tunneling tactics? That would be much less troublesome."

Beauval continued sketching with the branch. "Someone has already figured out a way to counter tunneling tactics. They dig deep trenches outside the city to block the tunnels' advance, then send men into the tunnels to kill the sappers, or simply flood them with water. The Orléans garrison has plenty of troops and more than enough manpower to pull this off."

'That fast?'

Wigg had originally thought this tactic would remain viable for a while longer, but it had been countered in less than a year. He paced back and forth along the riverbank, pondering for a long time, before finally agreeing to take in this Frankish noble of mediocre ability and questionable loyalty.

On May 4th, the Viking army arrived at the outskirts of Orléans.The rangers scattered for reconnaissance and discovered that the nearby villagers had already evacuated, taking all their grain and livestock with them. The situation in the woods to the east of Orléans and the dense forests along the southern bank of the Loire River remained unclear. Perhaps a large enemy force was hiding there, or perhaps there were only a few scattered scouts.

"No, you have been bluffed. The main force of the Frankish army is definitely not in those woods. Charles the Bald does not have the courage to face me in a field battle."

After breaching Angers and Tours previously, Wigg had gathered a great deal of intelligence. Charles's field army consisted of little more than twenty thousand men. Reinforcements from various regions were still assembling, and the Italian reinforcements were moving sluggishly. They likely had not even crossed the Alps yet.

On May 5th, the siege of Orléans began.

With an abundance of troops, Wigg simultaneously ordered the excavation of tunnels and the construction of large trebuchets from the east, north, and west. Looking from afar, the garrison could be seen digging deep trenches outside the city. Beauval had not lied; perhaps tunneling tactics truly were obsolete.

On another front, he dispatched mountain infantry battalions into the eastern woods to clear out any scattered Frankish army units. In small-scale skirmishes, the duck-and-drake formation squads completely crushed equal numbers of Frankish soldiers, displaying extremely high combat efficiency.

It took two days for the mountain infantry battalions to sweep the forests on the northern bank, but they found no signs of the anticipated ambush.

On May 20th, a tunnel on the western side of the city was discovered by the Frankish army. The two sides engaged in a brutal slaughter within the narrow, suffocating confines of the tunnel. Left with no other choice, the tunnel had to be abandoned.

Soon after, several other tunnels were also exposed. To evade the Frankish army's reconnaissance, the Viking sappers were forced to dig deeper and minimize their noise, which drastically slowed their efficiency.

As June arrived, several trebuchets were finally completed. The sappers slowly pushed them forward and began hurling stone projectiles to bombard the city walls.

"Loose!" A sharp command tore through the morning mist. The sappers swung their wooden mallets, smashing the release mechanisms. The massive long arms broke free of their restraints, violently sweeping up toward the sky with a howling screech. The stone projectiles hurtled toward the battlements, carrying the heavy sound of rushing wind. A few seconds later, the stone projectiles slammed into the battlements, sending rubble showering down like rain as plumes of dust billowed into the air like a gray cloud.

In response, the Frankish army launched a counterattack. Stone projectiles soared from within the city, tracing arcs over the walls before crashing into the Viking positions outside.

Crash!

A stone projectile plummeted right next to one of the trebuchets, sinking deep into the mud. Sludge splattered everywhere, drenching the faces and heads of several nearby soldiers. They wiped their faces in frustration, cursing under their breath, but they did not dare stop. Instead, they pushed the heavy winches once again to prepare for the next round of attacks.

Because of the high-arcing trajectories of the trebuchets, the hit rates for both sides were quite low. The soldiers mechanically loaded, pulled the ropes, and fired. As time passed, more and more trebuchets were completed, until over twenty of them were aimed at the tower Beauval had mentioned.

Every day, from dawn until dusk, stone projectiles rained down relentlessly. That towering structure gradually began to show signs of structural failure. With every heavy impact, the tower trembled slightly, sending streams of dust cascading down.

On one muggy afternoon, another stone projectile smashed into its battered midsection, finally pushing it past its breaking point. The tower violently caved inward, and the upper half, now lacking support, came crashing down toward the inner city with a deafening roar.

The section of the wall adjacent to the tower had also sustained severe damage and could no longer hold up. The ground seemed to quake, and the colossal noise drowned out all the clamor on the battlefield as a thick cloud of grayish-brown dust spread across the area.

Fweeeet!

The next moment, the piercing shriek of a charge whistle echoed outside the city. Douglas's axe guard and a mountain infantry battalion spearheaded the assault. The soldiers charged forward, carrying thirteen-foot-long ladders, which they laid across the trenches outside the city.

Upon drawing closer, they realized that this section of the trench had already been mostly filled with rubble and broken bricks, making the long ladders practically unnecessary. Surging up the gentle slope, the axe guard and the mountain infantry battalion breached the city, making a beeline for the Earl's estate.

Behind them were two eager Eastern European infantry regiments. This group had poor organizational discipline; their only real use was to whittle down the garrison's strength.

At four in the afternoon, the Vikings captured the Earl's estate. The garrison's morale completely shattered. Some men fled onto boats at the docks and headed upstream, while others scurried across the pontoon bridge toward the southern bank.

Watching those fleeing figures, the riverine fleet felt powerless to stop them. A river chain barrier lay stretched across the water ahead, blocking their advance.

As dusk approached, the Vikings seized control of the southern wall. They turned the massive winches, lowering the river chain barrier beneath the surface of the water, allowing the fleet to proceed to the docks and drop anchor.

The speed at which Orléans fell far exceeded the Frankish army's expectations. The supplies stockpiled inside the city could not be evacuated or burned in time. The seized grain was enough to feed the Viking army for two whole months, and there were also massive quantities of wine and textiles.

Ever since the textile industry in Flanders suffered a devastating blow, textile workers had migrated into the Frankish interior. Orléans had benefited greatly from this influx, with forty percent of the city's workforce engaged in related trades.

Wigg inspected the captured fabrics and found their quality to be roughly on par with the goods from Flanders back in the day. Britain's textile industry was advancing rapidly, surpassing its former competitors in both production volume and quality. It was just a pity that they were barred from entering the Continental Europe market; otherwise, they would have bankrupted the Frankish textile industry long ago.

He toured the rest of the workshops, noting that the city's other industries were similarly incapable of competing with Britain.

The rising literacy rate, the enactment of patent laws, and the backing of the royal family—these multiple factors had collectively driven technological progress, thereby fueling commercial prosperity. Britain's population was a mere 2.7 million, yet the tax revenue it generated eclipsed that of West Francia and its five million people.