Vikings: Lords of the Ice Sea

Chapter 9 Attack
Ivar put his arm around Vig's shoulder. "It wasn't for nothing that I went to so much trouble to teach you how to use a sword. Shall we have another match sometime?"

"Forget it, there's no need for that." Even after this "epiphany," Vig didn't feel that he had reached the level of top-tier combat power and was not suitable to show off everywhere.

After counting the number of people, the caravan had only twelve left. One of Rurik's followers had died from an arrow, and two shield guards had died in close combat with the nomads.

Due to their extreme disadvantage in equipment, the nomads left a total of twenty-five corpses in the forest. To vent their anger, they took the furs and amber from the ship and then burned it, completely extinguishing any hope the caravan could have.

“Damn cowards!” Ivar suggested following the retreating nomads and stealing their horses under cover of night.

Rurik objected, "No, we have no chance of winning in the open." After saying that, he frowned, sat on the ground and thought for a long time before finally making up his mind.

"We need outside help. There's a Rus tribe to the southwest that I have a good relationship with. It's two days' journey from here. Let's go there and seek refuge."

Ivar: "You've been hesitating for so long because you think this relationship is unreliable?"

“I saved that chief two years ago, and he offered me his daughter in marriage, which I refused,” Rurik sighed. “Now that I need his help, I guess I can’t avoid this marriage proposal.”

Rurik was not lying. When he appeared at the gate of the tribe, it caused a small commotion. The chief warmly invited the caravan into the longhouse and treated them to wheat bread covered with honey.

Honey and white bread are luxuries in the eyes of the poor, and now they are being supplied to caravan members without limit, which makes Vig feel somewhat uncomfortable.

He nudged Rurik with his elbow. "We're just a group of Vikings passing through. Is this really necessary?"

The latter picked up the mead and drank it all in one gulp, then burped and replied, "Burp, you don't need to make that face. Eastern Europe has fertile soil, suitable for growing wheat and raising bees. Life there is much better than in Northern Europe. Otherwise, why would so many Vikings migrate here every year?"

Right.

According to historical records from later generations, the Rus' tribes in Eastern Europe had long been deeply influenced by the Vikings, and the exchanges between the two sides deepened, leading to the formation of the first Rus' state in the mid-ninth century.

The first Rus' ruler was a Viking, I think his name was Rurik.

Rurik!
Vig ignored his meal and scrutinized the tall, muscular red-haired youth, making the latter very uncomfortable. "What exactly do you want?"

"No, it's nothing."

Soon, the tribal chief inquired about the reason for Rurik's visit. Upon learning that Rurik's cargo ship had been burned, he slammed his fist on the table in fury, "In the past two years, the Pecheneg tribe has become increasingly rampant. Not only do they plunder caravans, but they also regularly steal our wheat every year. I've long disliked them!"

After saying this, the chief promised to send people to help him retrieve the goods, on the condition that Rurik marry his youngest daughter.

"Okay, I agree."

Seemingly worried that the son-in-law might change his mind, the chief chose to hold the wedding that afternoon.

In the presence of a thousand tribesmen, he personally slaughtered cattle and sheep to sacrifice to the sun god Dariborg and the thunder god Perun, followed by an extremely lively wedding ceremony.

Ignoring the newlyweds' expressions, Vig seized the opportunity to feast, replenishing his energy after the recent exertions. After the banquet, he went to his room to rest. Having spent so long sleeping outdoors, his body was no longer accustomed to the soft straw bed, and he struggled to fall asleep for over two hours. Three days later, the chief provided 150 able-bodied men as promised. "Rurik," he said, "you and your companions are outstanding warriors. I await your good news."

With too few men, the chances of winning were slim. Before setting off, Vig sought out Rurik and advised him to make more preparations.

"Have the blacksmith forge some caltrops, and also have the carpenter improve the structure of the supply wagons."

After a two-day delay, the expeditionary force set off along the trail.

With twelve Viking warriors clad in iron armor, the Rus' morale was high. The heavily armored infantry had an overwhelming advantage against the unarmored nomads, provided the Pechenegs did not flee.

"Hey, are they telling the truth? You single-handedly took down ten nomads?"

Along the way, young Ross men kept approaching Vig, asking him questions repeatedly in broken Norse and with gestures, which made him dizzy and confused. So he simply pushed everything onto Ivar.

"Ask 'The Boneless' Ivar. He taught me my martial arts. Pay attention to his movements during the fight, and you might get lucky and learn a couple of moves."

The following morning, a few nomadic riders appeared in the south. Realizing that this group was about to attack their tribe, the nomads scattered across the grasslands began to gather.

Around 3 p.m., two hundred riders gathered ahead, with one of them holding a blue flag with a white horse, the edges of which were embroidered with gold thread.

The banners waved three times rhythmically, and the nomads charged in, bows raised high. To their bewilderment, these Rus' people adopted a strange tactic: they formed a loose circle around the eighteen supply wagons, then retreated into the circle and held their ground.

Soon, the nomads charged within fifty paces, raining arrows around the wagon formation. At Rurik's command, the Rus' archers launched a counterattack, standing atop the wagons and using the wooden planks of the carriages for cover as cover against the enemy.

Due to the jolting motion of horses and the lower draw weight of horse bows, mounted archers were inferior to infantry archers in terms of range, power, and accuracy. After a brief exchange of fire, the nomads suffered twenty casualties, while the defenders lost only three.

The age-old tactics were ineffective, and the nomadic chieftain panicked. After repeated observations, he keenly noticed that the gaps in the northeast corner of the wagon formation were large enough for ten horses to pass side by side, and that the archers were young and inexperienced, and had not hit anyone at all.

Weak links?

Realizing this, he personally led his men, carrying the flag, into the wagon formation. However, the Rus' men did not panic as expected; instead, they lined up and held their spears horizontally, as if they had been prepared all along.

"Trap! Retreat!"

Unfortunately, it was too late. The archers on the wagons began hurling caltrops to hinder the riders outside the lines. At the same time, led by Viking heavy infantry, the Rus' used spears to stab those riders who were trapped and unable to move.

Seeing his tribesmen being stabbed off their horses one by one, the chief felt as if he had fallen into an ice cave. In desperation, he ordered his tribesmen to abandon their warhorses and escape through the gaps in the wagon formation. In the chaos, many people stepped on the caltrops and fell to the ground, where they were then accurately shot dead by the archers.

In just over ten minutes, the battle ended in a crushing defeat for the nomads, who left behind a total of seventy corpses, while the defending side of the wagon emplacement suffered only seven casualties!
In addition, twenty-five warhorses were left behind inside the wagon formation. With these mounts alone, this expedition has already made a huge profit.

(End of this chapter)