In the morning, a hundred Vikings and as many captives went into the forest to chop wood. The branches were covered with a thin layer of snow. They held iron axes and hewed the trunks of trees. A hot white mist emanated from their bodies. The muffled sound of an axe hitting an oak trunk scared the ravens.
"The tree has fallen!"
With a loud reminder, the oaks began to fall one after another. The Vikings chopped off the interfering branches with axes and saws and dragged the logs to the sleds. Suddenly, the roar of a bowstring was heard in the forest.
The next moment, a feathered arrow pierced the back of a young man. He fell on a pile of logs next to the sled, and his blood burned holes in the ground covered with thin snow.
"The enemy is attacking!"
Countless feather arrows fell like hail, and the Vikings who managed to survive were pinned behind the bunker and unable to move. A few minutes later, a large group of Mercian soldiers appeared from the depths of the forest. The numbers and equipment were at a complete disadvantage, and the logging crew was forced to retreat.
...
In the northwestern camp, two nobles were having breakfast and playing chess in a warm and cozy room. Ulf held a chess piece in his hands and thought hard. He had heard that the logging camp was under attack, and in his panic he had "accidentally" damaged the chessboard.
"These people are really nasty. Why don't they pick fights with others, but continue to harass us?" Throwing on a black cloak, Ulf cursed and climbed up to the watchtower at the edge of the village. Looking around, he saw dozens of Vikings running out of the northern forest and racing at breakneck speed across the silent, lifeless snow.
Soon after, a large number of militiamen emerged from the edge of the forest with square shields, spears and pitchforks. It was estimated that there were about 700-800 of them.
"What should we do?"
Vig, who was standing next to him, replied, "What else can we do? Better to deal with them in the wild than to let these militiamen enter Tamworth."
After a brief discussion, Vig led 400 men to intercept, including all 60 armored soldiers, while Ulf ordered the remaining 200 to defend the camp.
While his comrades were gathering their forces, Ulf ordered two smoke signals to be set off in the open, requesting reinforcements from the camp to the east of the city.
"I hope it's not too late," Ulf muttered quietly, watching as Wig took the initiative to confront a Mercian army that outnumbered him two to one.
The distance was now 200 paces away. Wig drew his sword and signaled for his men to form a shield wall, himself at the head, and advanced slowly toward the enemy.
After a few dozen paces, he heard a sharp blast from a horn behind him. Wig turned to see Ulf waving his arms wildly on the watchtower, pointing toward Tamworth.
At this point, the north gate of Tamworth slowly opened, and the Mercian soldiers, armed with swords and shields, came out of the city one by one, lining up at the insistence of their officers.
"My lord, what should we do?" the shield-bearers on both sides began to speak, but Wyg still did not retreat.
"Do not worry about the rear. Our immediate task is to keep away from this group of Mercians and prevent them from entering Tamworth. If nothing happens, your majesty has received word that reinforcements have arrived."
The shield wall continued to advance, and the distance was reduced to seventy paces. The enemy archers began to hurl feather arrows. Vig was inside the shield wall, moving slowly. Every now and then he heard the muffled sound of arrows hitting the shield surface above his head: bang, bang, bang, like a great flock of woodpeckers pecking at a tree trunk.
Fifty paces.
Thirty paces.
Ten paces.
The ground shook on the eve of the enemy attack. The Vikings at the edge of the shield wall followed the sound and looked to the east. They saw a hundred-man cavalry advancing furiously, and the riders in front carried Ragnar's royal banner. Not far from the cavalry, a large number of light infantry were running toward the battlefield.
"Our cavalry has arrived!"
The news spread quickly across the shield wall. Feeling his own morale suddenly rise, Vig no longer hesitated. "Odin!" He shouted Odin's name and resolutely ordered the shield wall to attack the Mercian reinforcements that outnumbered him by two to one.
The two armies met and shouts were heard. A few minutes passed, and the cavalry led by Gunnar approached the Mercian reinforcements from the flank and rear. The heavy bodies of the warhorses crashed into the crowd, instantly knocking down many unprepared enemies. Goaded on by spurs, the warhorses neighed and pressed deeper into the crowd until they had exhausted the last of their kinetic energy.
The riders, taking advantage of their height, swung their iron swords, cutting down the enemy from both sides. Faced with these maddened horsemen, the left flank of the Mercian reinforcements collapsed, and the chain reaction led to the defeat of the entire force. They abandoned their weapons and wounded comrades and returned to the thicket of the forest along the same path.
"Don't chase, turn around!"
Having driven off the reinforcements, Wig gave the signal for the shield wall to turn around and advance towards Tamworth from the south. The 500 Mercian warriors who had left the city were less than 200 paces away. Seeing the defeat of the reinforcements, they froze, not knowing whether to save themselves or retreat back to the city.
Just half a minute later, a horn sounded on the wall of Tamworth, and the frozen Mercian army seemed to wake up and retreat as fast as they could towards the city gates. Vig led his troops in pursuit and destruction, but unfortunately it was too late. He was unable to hold his ground, and more than a dozen soldiers were cut down by archers on the wall. He had no choice but to retreat.
Vig spent most of the next day leading his troops deeper into the forest, dealing with scattered fugitives, and returned to camp at sunset.
"Luckily, Ragnar quickly decided to send out the cavalry. Although they were only a few inexperienced riders, they were enough to deal a crushing blow to the militia."
The entire army currently numbers only 100 cavalrymen, who are part of the palace guard.
Thanks to their experience on the steppes of Eastern Europe, the three commanders – Gunnar, Nils and Orm – understood the importance of iron stirrups, so all cavalry was equipped with stirrups, and their combat effectiveness was an order of magnitude higher than that of the Anglo-Saxon horsemen.
Unfortunately, British horses were generally short and used mainly for agricultural work and transport. They lacked explosive power, which significantly reduced the striking power of the cavalry.
In addition, the cavalry lacked qualified riding instructors. During daytime battles, Whig found that more than half of the riders, after engaging the enemy, jumped from the saddle and engaged in foot fighting, like mounted infantry.
"The advantage of the cavalry is too great. After the war, we must find a way to hire trainers, buy good horses on the European continent, and form a special shock cavalry!
In fact, Vig had long been toying with the idea of creating a cavalry. Last year, he had specifically consulted wool merchants about the price and learned that the price of war horses in West Franconia was more than two pounds of silver.
Moreover, since the risk of selling war horses to pagan barbarians was too great, several wool merchants declined Vig's request. Only one intrepid merchant agreed to help, but he offered a high price that Vig could not afford:
five pounds of silver for each mare and ten pounds for a high-quality stallion!
Undoubtedly, such a price was beyond Vig's means. If he did not capture enough booty in the next war, the plan to form a cavalry would have to be postponed for several more years.