Viking: Master of the Icy Sea

Chapter 372: Secret Weapon

In an instant, a massive plume of thick smoke laced with scarlet flames erupted from the muzzle. The cannon's body recoiled violently backward, and the pungent scent of sulfur drifted with the wind, blanketing the entire grassy field.

'Cough, cough. What a pungent smell.'

Wigg stood on his tiptoes from within the dirt trench, noting that the wooden palisade a hundred paces away had been effortlessly pierced by the cannonball. He ordered the craftsmen to switch targets and aim at a nearby stone wall.

The stone wall was relatively sturdy. The bronze cannon bombarded it continuously over a dozen times before finally smashing a large hole through it.

By this time, the temperature of the cannon barrel had risen drastically. The craftsmen used water-soaked mops to swab the bore, sending plumes of white steam billowing from the muzzle.

The supervisor leaned in and explained, "Your Majesty, the barrel's temperature is too high. It must cool down for a while, or the barrel will burst."

"Understood."

Wigg respected the opinions of frontline technicians. He turned around, his gaze falling upon the Crown Prince and the three ministers. The four men stood frozen in place; the first emotion to surface on their faces was not joy, but a profound shock bordering on dread.

Mitcham took off his leather hat, wiping the beads of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. His lips trembled as he murmured, "What kind of weapon is this?"

"A cannon," Wigg replied, his eyes fixed on the collapsed stone wall in the distance, betraying an indescribable excitement.The next moment, he walked over to the adjacent trench and grabbed a small pinch of gunpowder from a barrel, his mind racing.

They faced numerous problems at this current stage. First, the bronze cannons were far too cumbersome, making them unsuitable for rapid mobility in field battles. Second, the production yield of gunpowder was low, and it contained too many impurities, which severely weakened its explosive power.

Charcoal, sulfur, and saltpeter were the three raw ingredients used to formulate gunpowder. Charcoal was easy to produce, and sulfur was sourced from the volcanoes of Iceland, but the most troublesome element was saltpeter. The craftsmen scraped nitrate-rich soil from old wall foundations and the walls of livestock sheds, which contained a vast amount of impurities. Despite their prolonged efforts, the craftsmen had yet to find a suitable method of purification.

"Father, are we the only ones who possess this weapon?" the Crown Prince asked in a hushed tone.

"The Tang Empire in the East possesses gunpowder. It is said that in one battle, they used a trebuchet to hurl gunpowder. However, their gunpowder contains too many impurities, and its purity is even lower than ours. It can only serve as an incendiary weapon, possessing about the same destructive power as fire pots."

Wigg stroked his chin, watching the craftsmen transport the cannon. They had brought in twelve draft horses, going through immense trouble to haul the artillery piece back to the warehouse, leaving a deep rut across the grassy field.

The Minister of War frowned. "Your Majesty, the bronze cannon moves at a sluggish pace. If we encounter rainy weather and the ground becomes muddy and slick, I fear it wouldn't even cover five miles in a single day."

Given the artillery's abysmal mobility, the ministers unanimously agreed that it was unsuited for field battles. It could only be utilized for besieging or defending cities, or perhaps as a naval weapon.

Next, Wigg, his son, and the ministers headed to the workshop to observe the casting process of the bronze cannons.

The craftsmen first created clay molds, ensuring uniform thickness and smooth inner walls, before firing them at low temperatures in a kiln to harden them into sturdy ceramic molds.

In the adjacent workshop, craftsmen were attempting to smelt bronze. They tossed copper and tin blocks into a brick-built melting pot, maintaining a ratio of ten to one.

On the other side, massive bellows driven by animal power pumped a continuous stream of air to maintain the high temperature inside the furnace. Once the chief craftsman determined that the molten metal had reached the required state, he used an iron hook to open the melting pot's outlet. Searing, magma-like liquid bronze flowed down the channels into the hollows of the buried molds. Four craftsmen used long poles to continuously thrust into the flowing solution, eliminating any trapped air bubbles.

After the casting was complete, the bronze cannon needed to cool down for a period. Then, the craftsmen would smash the outer mold to retrieve the rough barrel blank, proceeding to polish the bore and perform other finishing steps.

Observing until three o'clock in the afternoon, Wigg did not interfere with the craftsmen's casting process. He merely offered three suggestions regarding the firing procedure:

Design a new type of carriage mount to easily adjust the cannon's firing angle.

During loading, use gunpowder packets instead of loose powder to increase loading speed. Carve a tally mark on the barrel's surface after every shot to prevent overusing it and causing an accidental barrel burst.

Once the observation concluded, Wigg distributed a monetary reward to the craftsmen and rode a carriage back to the royal court, his mind still recollecting information regarding early artillery along the way.

According to the original timeline, the earliest cannons to appear in Western Europe during the 14th century were short, thick-barreled weapons that fired large-caliber stone projectiles, known as bombards. They had a high trajectory, resulting in poor firing accuracy. Moreover, these cannons were incredibly cumbersome and unsuitable for field mobility; besiegers typically cast them on-site outside the city walls, which was a wildly time-consuming process.

By the 15th century, Europe began casting bronze cannons as single pieces. The barrels were lengthened and their inner walls made uniform, allowing them to withstand higher chamber pressures and further enhancing their destructive power.

(In 1453, during the Ottoman siege of Constantinople, the Orban bombard was cast, capable of firing stone projectiles weighing hundreds of kilograms, inflicting significant damage on the walls of Constantinople.)

Overall, the bronze cannons produced by the arsenal were at the technological level of the 15th century. Due to the era's backward metallurgical techniques, it would be difficult to improve the artillery's power in the short term.

Furthermore, the arsenal had also attempted to cast iron cannons, which cost a mere third of the bronze ones. However, the price paid was a far higher rate of exploding barrels, leading to the iron cannon project being shelved.

October, the Mediterranean Sea, Sicily.

Having secured victory in the Battle of Syracuse, the Eastern Roman Fleet pressed their advantage, sweeping along the Sicilian coast to clear out Moorish vessels and sever the supply lines and reinforcements for the Moorish army on the island.

Half a month passed. The fleet commander, Niketas Oryphas, returned to Syracuse, only to receive terrible news from the mainland:

The ten thousand soldiers originally scheduled to depart from Athens had temporarily changed course, heading to Anatolia to quell a heretical rebellion.

"What is the meaning of this? Bereft of an army, how am I supposed to reclaim all of Sicily? Assuming the rebellion is not put down, does this mean I will be indefinitely denied reinforcements?"

Oryphas fired off several questions in rapid succession. The envoy gave no direct answer, merely urging the commander to wait patiently.

"Just how long is this going to take?"

Oryphas was appalled by his colleagues' sheer incompetence. Despite expending massive amounts of manpower and resources, they still had not defeated a heretical army composed entirely of bottom-dwelling paupers.

He thought to himself, 'If Niels hadn't retired, this rebellion wouldn't have lasted even two years.'

Without reinforcements, the situation in Sicily devolved into a stalemate. It was then that a visitor sought out Oryphas on his own initiative, offering assistance in the war.

"And you are?"

The visitor lowered his hood, revealing a young face in its twenties. "I am Alfred, heir to the throne of Wessex. I lived in a Frankish monastery for some years before fleeing to Italy alongside the refugees. Currently, I serve in Emperor Charles's royal court."

Oryphas had heard of the upheavals in recent years. The various Frankish states left behind by Charlemagne had been effortlessly overrun by the Viking army. Large numbers of Frankish refugees had poured into Italy, and to make a living, they indeed needed a well-paying job.

"Very well. I will write to Constantinople immediately to request the Basileus's approval. But assuming you cannot be granted land, is Charles the Bald still willing to deploy troops?"

Alfred flashed a bitter smile. "Of course. We no longer have a choice."