novelraw Chapter 98: River Severn
Chapter 98: River Severn
Ch 98: River Severn
In late July, the troops completed their training.
Based on the gathered information, Vig selected a march route.
“Gentlemen, I plan to go to Worcester, then travel up the River Severn, using ships to transport supplies, and finally arrive at the capital of the Powys Kingdom, Mathrafal.”
Given his prestige accumulated from numerous campaigns, the commanders did not object. The troops traveled northwest for two days, arriving at the River Severn. On the east bank sits a town called Worcester.
This area is still under Theodulf’s jurisdiction. Since receiving the order last month, fifty longships have been built and requisitioned there.
“Too few! I requested one hundred!”
Vig severely reprimanded the Lord of Worcester. Theodulf watched from the side. Although this man was his vassal, he was always disobedient. Being scolded was actually a good thing for him.
Ordering the other party to make up the ships and supplies within half a month, Vig led the troops along the river channel and discovered Offa’s Dyke.
Stretching from north to south, a continuous earthwork, 2.5 meters high, was visible. There was also a moat about 2 meters deep on the west side. If Welsh bandits attacked the earthwork, they would need to climb almost 4.5 meters. As a Mercian noble, Theodulf introduced this fortification to Vig in a proud tone:
“From the Dee River mouth in the north to the Severn River mouth in the south, it is 150 miles long, separating the Welsh region from Mercia. To face such a massive undertaking, King Offa mobilized prisoners of war, peasants from vassal states, and Welsh tribes, spending twenty years to complete it.”
“Excellent, a truly landmark achievement.” During lunch, Vig took out paper and pen, carefully sketching the scenery before him.
“It’s a pity that all fortifications require soldiers to guard them. Along the way, the outposts along the line have become ruins. King Offa’s hard work was ultimately in vain.”
His unintentional remark stung Theodulf, who became taciturn for the rest of the journey, until the afternoon of August 1st, when the army encountered its first attack.
The attack came from the west bank of the River Severn. One hundred longbowmen emerged from the forest, forming a loose line in the open space, harassing the Vikings traveling on the east bank.
“Heavy crossbowmen counterattack from the ships, others raise their shields and continue to advance.”
Over one hundred and fifty meters apart, ordinary crossbows were ineffective. Vig had one hundred heavy crossbowmen board the deck and engage in an exchange of arrows with an equal number of longbowmen.
Soon, the Welsh focused on these heavy crossbowmen, showering them with arrows. Sparks flew from the heavy crossbowmen’s iron helmets and shoulder armor. The sounds were dense and continuous, reminding Vig of the sound of rain hitting an iron roof.
After several rounds of arrows, the heavy crossbowmen reloaded and fired at the figures on the opposite bank, then bent down to reload for a second round.
Ten minutes later, west bank of the River Severn.
In every combat, Welsh longbowmen carried two quivers, each with 30 arrows. They used a standard firing rate of six arrows per minute, shooting continuously for ten minutes until their stamina was exhausted.
Amidst everyone’s gasps, the commander counted the casualties. A total of twenty longbowmen were lost, while the counterattack from the opposite side did not slow down; it was still one volley of crossbow bolts every half minute—slow but deadly.
“These damned Viking barbarians are unruly! They actually wore iron armor to exchange arrows with us! Retreat! We’re not playing with them anymore!”
Carrying their comrades’ corpses, the surviving Welshmen quickly crawled into the forest.
Having driven off the archers, Vig ordered the troops to camp. To prevent a night raid, he and Theodulf took turns on watch, enduring the most dangerous night.
On the morning of August 2nd, after the Vikings had breakfast, they traveled along the river for two hours and successfully reached their destination.
Looking across the River Severn to the west bank, there were large fields along the shore. Further west, the terrain gradually rose, and a wooden fortress stood on the hillside.
Vig rubbed his tired eyes and told Theodulf beside him: “Mathrafal Castle, the palace of the Powys Kingdom. We have arrived.”
At this moment, eight hundred militiamen armed with weapons, including three hundred longbowmen, had gathered on the opposite bank, attempting to prevent the Vikings from crossing the river.
The two sides exchanged arrows for a few minutes. With an overwhelming firepower advantage, five hundred archers and eight hundred crossbowmen completely defeated the Welshmen on the west bank, forcing them to retreat from the riverbank.
“According to the original plan, various units board the ships in order.”
Under the cover of their own archers and crossbowmen, two hundred Viking warriors were the first to reach the west bank. They raised their round shields, forming a shield wall, silently enduring the arrows fired by the enemy.
At 2 PM, most of the troops had crossed the river. Vig led three thousand men to attack, while Theodulf led the remaining thousand soldiers to guard the ships.
It was August, and the winter wheat had not yet been sown. Low weeds grew in the fields. The Vikings, enduring the heat of the sun, trod through the soft grass towards the wooden fort on the slope.
Seeing the vast number of soldiers, the Welsh militia were demoralized and retreated into the fortress, intending to rely on the five-meter-high fortifications to resist this pagan army.
Three hundred meters from the wooden fort, Vig signaled the left and right flanks to advance and disperse the nearby small groups of archers. Then, he ordered one thousand archers and crossbowmen to advance to one hundred meters from the fort to suppress the longbowmen behind the battlements.
When the enemy’s counterattack was almost nonexistent, one hundred Vikings pushed handcarts towards the city walls, four men per cart, totaling twenty-five carts.
Under the questioning gazes of the garrison, the handcarts swayed to the city walls. The Vikings took out earthenware pots one by one and smashed them against the walls ten meters away.
With the sound of shattering pots, the garrison smelled the scent of pitch and resin, understanding that the Vikings intended to set fire to the walls. Following the King’s order, the longbowmen risked their lives to lean out from the battlements and shoot, but to little effect. Dozens of longbowmen were shot and killed as the Vikings threw all their oil jars.
Finally, Viking archers fired a volley of rockets at the walls, igniting the oil that spread everywhere outside the walls.
Originally, this oil was intended for the siege of Paris. After the treaty was reached, the Viking fleet brought it back to Britain, and it was conveniently used at Mathrafal.
Under the scorching flames, the outermost clay layer of the walls began to fall off, gradually revealing logs stripped of their bark. Seeing this, the garrison, ignoring the threat of arrows, fetched buckets and poured water over the battlements, resulting in a sharp increase in casualties.
Outside the city, Vig, who had stayed up late, was drowsy in the sun. He waved his left hand,
“Use up the remaining oil jars. If the walls aren’t damaged, have the troops fell timber to build siege engines and towers.”
Seeing that the garrison couldn’t produce much more in the way of defense, Vig simply sat cross-legged on the grass, propping his head with his left hand and dozing off. Just as he was about to fall asleep, Joren woke him.
“Sir, the garrison has surrendered. A man wearing a crown is frantically waving at us.”