novelraw Chapter 99: Rodri
Chapter 99: Rodri
Ch 99: Rodri
The garrison was willing to surrender, and Vig had the crossbowmen temporarily cease shooting.
Soon, the fire subsided, and a well-dressed middle-aged man emerged from the gate, requesting negotiations with the commander in Latin.
“My name is Rodri, King of Powys. May I ask your Excellency’s identity?”
Vig responded in Latin as well: “Vig, Lord of Tyne.”
Upon learning that this clean-cut young man was the renowned “Serpent of the North,” Rodri’s expression was extremely complex. After a long pause, he said in a hoarse voice:
“Since you are in charge of the troops, I don’t resent my loss. What do you want?”
“Welsh bandits pillaged villages in Mercia and even wounded Halfdan. Your Majesty lost face, so he sent me to attack the Welsh region until all the nobles submit.”
Sensing the undisguised greed and killing intent of the surrounding soldiers, Rodri offered a condition:
Powys would nominally pledge allegiance to Ragnar, paying twenty deerskins annually. He would not need to go to Londinium for an audience, nor would he need to respond to conscription during wartime. After Rodri finished speaking, Vig stared at him for a long time, until sweat beaded on Rodri’s forehead. Vig suddenly forced a friendly smile. “No problem, it’s a deal. But you must participate in the following operations and be responsible for persuading the remaining lords to surrender.”
“Persuade them to surrender? They won’t listen to me.”
Realizing the other party’s resistance, Vig took a crossbow from a soldier and demonstrated its operation.
He pressed the front end of the crossbow against the ground, stepped on the metal stirrup with his left foot, and pulled the bowstring upwards with both hands until it clicked into place.
Next, Vig drew a crossbow bolt and placed it in the arrow groove, with the fletching pressed against the notch of the bowstring.
After loading, he aimed at a handcart fifty meters away, slightly raising the crossbow according to the guide on the barrel.
“Watch closely, Sir Rodri.”
After saying this, Vig pressed the metal trigger with his index finger. The stored energy of the crossbow arm was instantly released, propelling the bolt straight towards the handcart.
Amidst the cheers of the soldiers, Vig handed the crossbow to Rodri and taught him how to operate it step-by-step.
Initially, Rodri didn’t understand the former’s intention, until he pulled the trigger and watched the bolt shoot into the nearby grassland. He suddenly realized and spoke urgently.
“How much does a crossbow cost? What’s the construction period?”
Vig: “Carpenters make the limbs and body, blacksmiths make the metal parts, and then they are assembled. The cost is about ten silver pence, and the construction period is two weeks. It’s most suitable for mass equipping armies. Heavy crossbows are a little more troublesome, 40~60 pence.”
“After the crossbows are made, it only takes twenty days to train a commoner who has never touched a bow and arrow into a crossbowman. How long does it take for your longbowmen? Five years? Ten years?”
Ignoring Rodri’s pale face, Vig returned the crossbow to the soldier. “Yesterday, you dispatched a captain of longbowmen and my heavy crossbowmen to exchange arrows. It seems that you suffered twenty casualties. In contrast, eleven crossbowmen were hit in weak spots by arrows, nine were injured, and two died. Do you think it’s worthwhile?”
Obviously, considering the consumption of ten-year experienced longbowmen and twenty-day trained heavy crossbowmen, the former was definitely at a loss.
Rodri chuckled bitterly and did not dwell on this, instead raising a final question:
“I admit that in a formation exchange of arrows, longbowmen cannot defeat heavy crossbowmen, but we don’t need to fight head-on; we can hide in the forest for a long-term war. In a complex and unfamiliar terrain, your casualties will increase sharply.”
“Sir, you’re wrong again.” To this sophistry, Vig delivered his final blow:
Assuming the Welsh hid in the deep mountains, he would not rashly pursue them, but would build castles in key locations. When May arrived and the winter wheat was about to mature, he would send troops to harvest the Welsh people’s wheat, forcing them into a decisive battle.
“Ragnar, as the High King of Britain, has a large family and business, and has ample manpower and resources to fight a war of attrition with you. In the end, he only wants to save face, and it was you who started the war. This outcome is already fortunate for you.”
Speechless, Rodri agreed to submit and join the Vikings in the next military operation.
After resting for three days, the army went north and arrived at the Dee River mouth, then sailed west along the coastline, aiming directly at the capital of Gwynedd—Llanfaes.
This town is located in the northwest corner of Wales. At this time, King Hywel heard rumors of a large-scale Viking invasion and hastily mustered 1,500 militiamen, intending to annihilate this pagan army in one fell swoop.
In the morning, morning mist carrying the salty sea breeze swept across the wooden walls. King Hywel went to the west wall to look out at the sea. The mudflats after low tide looked like a moldy wool blanket. Waves crashed against the reefs, producing bursts of white foam, and some peasants were picking clams with back baskets.
Suddenly, his right eyelid twitched violently. When rubbing his eyes, he caught sight of some black spots on the horizon.
At first, Hywel thought they were a flock of ravens or seagulls, until those black spots grew larger and larger, revealing the outline of ships.
“Fifty ships, no, one hundred Viking longships! Quickly ring the bell and assemble the troops!”
The fleet was tearing through the morning mist. The mast of the leading warship flew a black dragon flag, and the ferocious bow was rushing towards the beach.
The monastery’s bronze bell rang. The peasants picking shellfish on the mudflats stood there for a moment, then dropped their baskets and fled into Llanfaes, the shellfish scattering on the ground.
A few minutes later, the east gate of the town slowly closed, leaving only a messy dock.
The captain of the guards came to his side. “Your Majesty, should we go out of the city to meet the enemy according to the original plan?”
Gulp.
Hywel swallowed his saliva with difficulty and tremblingly took out his wine jug, taking a sip of honey wine. “The situation is bad. That’s not Halfdan’s oak tree flag, but the black serpent flag. Damn it, it’s the ‘Serpent of the North’!”
More than two months had passed since the Battle of the Seine Riverbank. Hywel had heard about this battle from many merchants. Some said that the Serpent of the North used magic to drive the river water to sweep away thousands of Frankish soldiers, and others said that the Serpent of the North threw six thousand prisoners into the sea to offer to the gods.
Based on various versions of the story, Hywel deduced a relatively reasonable conclusion:
Vig had defeated Charlemagne’s grandson and defeated a Frankish army of over ten thousand.
Putting away his wine jug, Hywel complained to the guards behind him, “Ragnar is not easy to deal with. I said earlier that we shouldn’t rob Mercia, but those fools wouldn’t listen. Now we’ve been ruined by them.”
Before the Viking army landed, Hywel decided to send an envoy out of the city to negotiate.
“Listen, I’m willing to nominally submit to Ragnar and pay tribute to a small amount of salted herring and deerskins every year, but I will never go to see the king, nor will I participate in his wars. Also, those messy Northern European shamans are forbidden to cause trouble in my territory.”