Vikings: Lords of the Ice Sea

Chapter 65 Tamworth

Ragnar was in high spirits after capturing Repton in less than an hour. Gazing at the endless plains outside the city, he had Pascal recount the deeds of the Mercian kings, which lulled the Viking nobles into a drowsy state.

Soon, the commotion from inside the city interrupted the history lesson. Leonard, Ulf, and the others regained their composure and looked toward the direction of St. Wiestans Church.

After a few minutes, dozens of tall, burly, and savage Viking warriors stormed over, demanding an explanation from Ragnar.

"Your Majesty, you hold the highest position and are indeed entitled to the most prestigious spoils of war, but that does not mean you are entitled to keep the treasure for yourself!"

"What treasure?" Ragnar asked, slightly surprised, but immediately realized they were referring to the royal mausoleum of Mercia.

“That place is special; disturbing the peace of the dead will bring a curse. Please be patient for now. Once we capture Tamworth, the royal treasury will have enough wealth to satisfy you.”

However, legends about King Aupha were spreading throughout the army at this time. Almost every Viking warrior coveted the funerary goods of this most powerful Anglo-Saxon monarch in centuries. Some claimed that his coffin was made of pure gold, while others said that Aupha's tomb was filled with silver coins, like a sea of ​​silver.

"No, conquering a place and dividing the spoils is a Viking tradition!"

The clamor grew louder and louder, and soon thousands of Vikings gathered near the city walls. Their surging desires overwhelmed their reason like a tidal wave, until someone, in desperation, drew an iron sword!
The moment the iron sword was drawn, the nobles on the city wall paled, and Pascal instinctively cried out, "Guards, hang him!"

The palace guards, clad in iron armor, rushed into the crowd and surrounded the burly man who dared to draw his sword. He was exceptionally tall and strong, with a bearskin draped over his back. Facing dozens of sharp blades pointed at him, he showed no fear whatsoever.

"Ragnar, you have been blinded by the lust for power and are unworthy of the title of hero. I challenge you to a duel!"

“Your Majesty, let me handle him.” Vig placed his right hand on the hilt of the Dragonbreath Sword, but Ragnar stopped him.

“There’s no need for that. I’m not so old that I can’t wield a sword.” Ragnar exhaled a breath of stale air, took off the black cloak from his back and tossed it to Pascal, then drew the Damascus steel sword from the Mediterranean—“Royal Power”.

Arriving at the open space under the gaze of thousands of eyes, Ragnar took a shield from a guard and pointed his sword at the challenger wearing a bearskin.

"Hurry up, I have a lot of things to do."

As soon as he finished speaking, the man who appeared to be a berserker swung his sword diagonally. Ragnar dodged to the side and then lightly leaped backward to avoid the second sweeping attack that followed.

Observing his opponent's movements, Ragnar concluded that the man only knew how to use brute force. He thrust his sword into the berserker's blind spot, slashing the berserker's waist and abdomen. He then followed up with a thrust, which the berserker raised to block. The sword easily pierced through the shield, leaving a long bloody gash on the berserker's forehead.

The dripping blood blurred the berserker's vision. Facing Ragnar's attack, he haphazardly raised his shield to block, but the sharpness and toughness of the Royal Sword exceeded everyone's expectations. Before long, it completely destroyed the round shield.

Left with no other choice, the berserker discarded his tattered shield and switched to wielding his sword with both hands.

Seeing this, Ragnar also discarded his shield, which he had never used before, and raised his sword above his head with both hands, assuming his most commonly used "top position" stance.

After a half-minute standoff, the berserker could no longer contain his inner turmoil. He roared, took a heavy step forward, and slashed down with his sword.

In response, Ragnar anticipated his opponent's swordplay the instant he took a step forward, took a half-step forward, the distance neither too long nor too short, and then turned his sword hilt horizontally, using the cross-shaped guard of "Royal Power" to block his opponent's middle section of the blade.

The sound of metal scraping tore through the stagnant air. In the instant the berserker staggered forward, Ragnar twisted his wrist, and the tip of his sword pierced his opponent's chest like a viper's tongue, ending the duel.

“Who else?” Ragnar drew his longsword, and the berserker’s heavy body crashed to the ground. He carried the still-dripping “Royal Power” and walked around the edge of the clearing. The Vikings he looked at all lowered their heads, not daring to look the legendary figure in the eye.

"Who else dares to try?"

He asked again, but received no answer. He tossed his longsword to the nearest guard and strode away.

After resting for a night, leaving 500 men to guard the town, the army continued its advance along the ancient Roman road and arrived at Tamworth, the capital of Mercia, that afternoon.

During the reign of King Aufa, Tamworth became the administrative center of Mercia, and he built Tamworth Fortress on the hill in the center of town as his office.

Outside the town, the Tamm and Anker rivers meet, and the land is flat and suitable for cultivation. A watermill stands on the riverbank, taller than the mill on the north bank of the Tyne River.

“What a bustling town,” Ragnar rode up a nearby hill and looked down at the town, estimating that the population exceeded three thousand.

Three years ago, Ragnar's power base was not yet secure, so he had no choice but to grant Mancini to Leonard, which brought Leonard's power to the same level as the royal family, making the nearby nobles feel suffocated.

He will never make the same mistake again. Ordinary settlements can be granted out, but Tamworth, with its strong fortifications, convenient transportation, and thriving commerce, must be kept in his own hands!
Having made up his mind, Ragnar discussed siege tactics with his men. There were three villages on the outskirts of the city, so he planned to divide his army into three parts, each choosing a village to garrison and cut off the roads leading into the city.

"Vigg, ​​you're in charge of the northwest direction."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

In addition to the more than 400 men in his own unit, Vig also received assistance from Ulf, who had nearly 300 warriors.

Upon entering the deserted village, Vig had his soldiers check all the wells to confirm that the villagers had not poisoned the water. He then arranged for men to dig trenches outside the village.

After three days of digging, the trenches were completed. Ulf thought the next step would be to build siege equipment, but to his surprise, Vig's next move was to build the stockade walls.

After scouting around, Ulf reported the movements of his allies to him: "The main camp in the east and Leonard on the south bank of the Tam River are both building siege equipment. Aren't you being a little too cautious?"

"His Majesty's eastern camp has two thousand men, Leonard's southern camp has one thousand men, and our northwestern camp is the weakest, with a total of seven hundred men and only sixty armored soldiers. We should focus our defense on this camp the most."

Without a doubt, the main attack direction was set in the east of the city, and Vig's task was to cut off traffic from the northwest and provide support during the general offensive.

Therefore, the focus of the first phase was to build defenses to avoid being caught off guard by the city's defenders. Only after having sufficient defensive capabilities would he consider building catapults.

Vig explained to Ulf: "His Majesty chose me to be in charge of the northwest because I am cautious enough. The fact that the Eastern Camp has not interfered with our operations these days shows that he approves of my strategy."

As November arrived, the sky was overcast, and fine snowflakes drifted down intermittently. The Viking warriors in the northwestern camp endured the bitter cold, heading out to the forest each morning to cut timber and carry it back to the village to build fortifications and siege equipment.

After several days of observation, a Mercian reinforcement force attempted to launch an attack.

(End of this chapter)