Having repelled these reinforcements, Vig continued to command the soldiers to fell trees and build siege weapons. As December arrived, the weather became increasingly severe; the snow on the ground surpassed ten centimeters, and the mustering speed of the local area militiamen slowed considerably.
At midnight, Vig sat at his desk, absorbed in a Latin scroll. The scroll’s author was a missionary; its contents were simple, mainly introducing geographical information and customs of the Frankish Kingdom.
“The Perche region is full of excellent pastureland. After AD 732, local horses were crossbred with Arabian Horses and Andalusian Horses. The resulting new breed is docile, has abundant stamina, and is well-suited to be warhorses.”
Vig recalled the Battle of Poitiers that erupted in that year.
After the Arabian army conquered the Iberian Peninsula—later Spain and Portugal—they went north, crossing the Pyrenees Mountains and advancing deep into Francia. Charles, the Frankish Chancellor, led his troops to meet them; the two sides clashed at Poitiers, resulting in a decisive Frankish victory.
After the battle, Charles earned the nickname “The Hammer,” and his reputation and power skyrocketed. After “The Hammer” Charles died, his son Pepin III became King of the Franks and established the Carolingian Dynasty. After Pepin III, the Frankish Kingdom reached its peak under his heir, Charlemagne.
“So that’s it. After the Battle of Poitiers ended, the Franks looted a large number of Arabian Horses and Andalusian Horses, thereby improving the bloodline of local horses.”
Ivar the Boneless sent this chest of scrolls as payment for the previous batch of equipment. Nearly 30 percent were alchemical manuscripts discussing a mysterious substance called “Lapis Philosophorum.” Vig recalled his high school chemistry textbook and still couldn’t figure out what it was.
（Lapis Philosophorum, the Philosopher’s Stone, an alchemical concept, is said to be able to transform base metals into precious metals and create the elixir of immortality.）
In addition, 20 percent of the manuscripts related to Hippocrates’ theories, focusing on the discussion of the circulatory system. Vig wasn’t very interested in this and yawned, classifying these manuscripts as one type.
Besides alchemy and medicine, these manuscripts included divination and many obscure flame rituals, making Vig dizzy. He thought he had traveled to some magical world.
“A whole chest of manuscripts, less than 30 percent useful. Ivar is simply fooling me. No, this batch of scrolls is not worth forty pounds of silver.”
Friendship is friendship, business is business.
Vig pulled out a piece of papyrus to write a letter. As he was about to write, a shrill scream suddenly came from his ear.
He put down the paper and pen, put on his armor with the help of his shield-bearers, and rushed out of the farmhouse. The moment he stepped out, a fierce cold wind carrying snow pellets hit his face, dispelling his drowsiness.
“Everyone, assemble!”
He yelled, and more than thirty shield-bearers who were fast asleep successively rushed out of the barracks. It took five minutes to put on their armor and form a formation.
In comparison, Ulf’s twenty shield-bearers were slow. By the time Vig’s troops had assembled, his men were still dawdling; several drunkards were still lying in bed.
“No time to wait. The fighting is intense to the east. I’ll take my men to the front. You are responsible for the north, west, and south to prevent a surprise attack.”
After saying this, Vig and his confidant charged towards the east side of the village. A section of the fortifications had been knocked down, and countless Mercian soldiers, holding torches high, poured in through the breach. Figures moved everywhere.
After thinking for half a minute, he called out the names of five shield-bearers, asking them to gather the scattered archers, then climb onto the roofs and shoot the Mercians near the breach.
“Joren, take ten men to gather the scattered soldiers and have them assemble in the open space in the center of the village. There is extra equipment in the warehouse. Remember, for every twenty gathered, have a shield-bearer in charge, then come and reinforce me.”
After issuing the order, Vig had a wagon brought to block the street, led the remaining twenty-plus shield-bearers to form a line behind the wagon. Relying on their equipment advantage, they easily repelled the enemy’s first wave of attacks, then the second, and the third.
Three minutes later, a small number of crossbowmen climbed to the roof and launched a shooting attack from a high position. Since the Mercian soldiers were crowded together, almost every arrow hit its target, greatly reducing the pressure on Vig.
Two minutes later, the first batch of reorganized scattered soldiers came to reinforce, replacing Vig and others. As time passed, the situation gradually tilted towards the Vikings.
A horn sounded from the city walls of Tamworth. Realizing that the Vikings from the East City Camp were sending reinforcements, the Mercian army was forced to retreat, fleeing into the city with torches.
Afterwards, Vig cleared the battlefield and found that many Mercian soldiers were equipped with iron armor. After questioning, he learned that they belonged to the Royal Guard.
“One hundred and fifty soldiers, six hundred militiamen.”
Vig couldn’t help but feel a chill. “Since they decided on a night raid, why didn’t the Crown Prince use all his remaining troops? If they had launched an attack from the south simultaneously, there would have been a 90 percent chance of capturing this camp.”
However, he thought again that even if the Mercians defeated him, the main force of the East City Camp was still there and still could not reverse the current predicament.
“We can’t win a field battle, so we can only resort to these sporadic harassment tactics. Perhaps the Crown Prince didn’t think too much about it and only hoped to use a small victory to boost morale.”
Given that the Northwest Camp had been attacked twice, Ragnar sent Niels with three hundred men to assist in the defense. However, after consecutive defeats, Mercia completely lost its courage to launch an active attack and watched as the siege weapons outside the city walls increased day by day.
The heavy snow that lasted for more than a week finally stopped. At noon, Vig and Ulf were ordered to attend a council at the East City Camp.
Ragnar: “How is the situation at the Northwest Camp?”
Vig presented the results of his work during this period: three siege engines, three siege towers, and one hundred siege ladders. Obviously, the two attacks by the Mercian army had seriously disrupted his progress.
Then it was Leonard. His camp was located on the south bank of the River Tame, unsuitable for a main attack. Therefore, he focused on building siege engines, reaching ten in number.
“Enough. Two days ago, a large batch of oil jars and arrows were sent from the domestic area. The temperature has risen in recent days, which is suitable for our army to launch a siege!”
The soldiers had been enduring the harsh cold and labor for days and had many complaints. Ragnar was unwilling to delay any longer. He ordered the three camps to bombard the city walls to weaken the morale of the garrison and launch a general assault when the time was ripe.
The meeting ended, and Vig and Ulf returned to the Northwest Camp to supervise the soldiers in their preparations. The next morning, almost at the same time, siege engines from three directions began bombarding the city walls of Tamworth.