Vikings: Lords of the Ice Sea

Chapter 68: Rain of Fire
After fifty days of preparation, the Vikings built a total of thirty catapults. From the 21st to the 31st, after ten days of bombardment, only half of the catapults were still operational.

Ultimately, Tamworth's east and south walls were riddled with holes, the battlements crumbled, and the walls collapsed, with the widest gaps allowing thirty warriors to pass side by side.

Gunnar leaned closer and asked, "Your Majesty, there aren't many defenders left on the city walls. Should we order an attack?"

"No rush, let's play with them a little longer."

Witnessing such terrifying power, Ragnar was deeply moved. Especially the spectacular scene of an entire section of the city wall collapsing two days ago, with its violent roar, falling stones, and billowing dust, gave him a wonderful illusion that he felt the power of heaven and earth all around him.

Now, instead of rushing into the city, he ordered all the oil canisters to be thrown, leaving a lasting impression on Mercia's inner circle.

On the last day of 846 AD, catapults hurled burning oil canisters. As night fell, the orange-red fireballs ripped through the dark sky, crashing into Tamworth with a whooshing sound. The canisters shattered, scalding liquid splattering everywhere, filling the city with a burnt stench, and the air thick with dust and scorching heat.

All night long, Ragnar, draped in a heavy cloak, stood silently until the sky began to lighten and the new year arrived, at which point he spoke:
“Veni, Vidi, Vici.” (I came, I saw, I conquered)
With the general offensive about to begin, the morning meal was exceptionally plentiful, with plenty of fish soup and bread, and each soldier was also given a small piece of mutton. For a time, the eastern camp was filled with the sound of soldiers swallowing their food heartily.

Half an hour later, nearly two thousand Vikings, burping contentedly, lined up in formation. They looked relaxed, occasionally joking with their companions, showing no signs of tension about the impending battle.

“Valhalla!”

Shouting slogans, the Vikings poured into the city through the breach. Without the walls as a barrier, the Tamworth militia were routed, suffering only 10% casualties before scattering. The remaining small force fled into Tamworth Castle in the city center, and most of the city fell under Viking control.

Meanwhile, at the Northwest Camp.

Listening to the cheers from within the city, Vig instructed Ulf: "As agreed beforehand, Nils and I will lead the team into the city, while you take three hundred men to guard the camp and intercept any small groups of fleeing soldiers. Any other questions?"

"No, you guys go ahead."

Having lost the chess game to the other two, Ulf could only watch helplessly as Vig and Nils entered Tamworth through the empty gap. His immediate subordinates murmured amongst themselves, complaining that their leader was useless, making a mistake at such a crucial moment.

"Shut up, everyone!"

Ulf silenced his subordinates, ordering the noisiest ones to go out and gather information, while the rest guarded the gaps to prevent the enemy from taking advantage of the chaos to break through.

Listening to the shouts of battle within the city, the Viking warriors split into four groups to block the west gate, the north gate, and two gaps. The sky was azure, the clouds were thin, and the warm, bright sunlight slanted down, giving people a lazy, languid feeling.

Stretching, Ulf leaned against the massive rock, took out his wine flask, took a small sip, and then exhaled a puff of white mist to reassure the shield guard beside him.
"Mercia is a great power on par with Northumbria, and there are many settlements in the south waiting for us to seize. After the war, I will try to persuade His Majesty to grant me a different fiefdom so that I don't have to go back to Liverpool to live a miserable life."

One of the shield guards replied listlessly, "My lord, you've said these things countless times. I don't think His Majesty will easily grant new fiefs. If you set the precedent, what will happen when the other nobles also clamor for new fiefs?"

Ulf was stumped. He had never been one of Ragnar's confidants, and his own abilities were far inferior to those of Vig and Ivar, the two most prominent young men, and even to the guard officers such as Gunnar, Niels, and Om.

He took a swig of his drink and pondered the most likely scenario:
After the war, Ragnar prioritized making the best territories directly under the royal domain, such as the Repton and Tamworth areas. The less desirable territories were distributed to Gunnar, Nils, and Orm, three close confidants who had not yet been knighted. As for himself…
As he sighed deeply, Ulf heard a burst of urgent shouts of battle. He climbed to a high point and saw a fierce battle taking place at a breach in the west city wall.

This enemy force numbered less than forty men, but they were highly skilled in combat. The six riders at the end of the column were dressed in black robes, making it impossible to discern their identities.

"How could fewer than forty men so easily suppress a Viking warrior force of over seventy?"

Ulf realized that this was Mercia's royal guard and led his men to reinforce them. When they arrived at the breach, six black-robed riders had already rushed out of the city!
"Stop them!"

In desperation, Ulf drew his short axe from his waist and threw it. The men around him followed suit, and dozens of iron axes spun and smashed into the horse's belly and hindquarters, eliciting a high-pitched neigh.

"The riders, clad in iron armor, are aiming at their horses!"

At Ulf's command, more than twenty archers fired five volleys of arrows, successfully killing the three surviving warhorses. The riders tried to resist but were swarmed and hacked to death by the Vikings.

After a frenzy of looting, the Vikings divided up the six riders' armor, helmets, weapons, fine clothes, money bags, and silver cross pendants. They even went so far as to break someone's finger in order to get the emerald gold ring.

In the end, six bloodied and mangled corpses were left in the snow, dressed only in thin clothing. Someone pulled a sack from the saddle, inside which was a crown made of pure gold.

"My lord, it seems we've killed Prince Bergred of Mercia?"

Ulf received the crown from the warrior. Under the sunlight, the rubies set in the crown reflected a bright and eerie light, dazzling and mesmerizing.

“It seems so,” he said, his expression a half-smile, his voice hoarse, his heart pounding in his chest. It took him a full five minutes to calm his greed and stuff the crown back into the sack.

"Carry the body and come with me to His Majesty."

In recent years, the old king's health had deteriorated, making him unable to handle state affairs, and all power had been transferred to Crown Prince Bergred. In Ulf's view, killing the Crown Prince was tantamount to killing the de facto ruler of Mercia.

With this great achievement, I have ample reason to request a change of fiefdom after the war. By Odin's grace, I can finally get away from that annoying Leonard!

Struggling with the pros and cons of the various fiefdoms in Mercia, Ulf, led by the Shield Guards, finds Ragnar, who is besieging Tamworth Castle in the town center.

"Your Majesty, we have defeated Bergred and seized the crown of Mercia!"

Ulf squeezed his way to Ragnar's side, knelt on one knee, and presented the crown to him with both hands. The crowd's expressions were complicated; they hadn't expected this fellow to have taken the credit.

(End of this chapter)