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Chapter 68 - Chapter 68: Rain of Fire

After fifty days of preparation, the Vikings had built a total of thirty trebuchets, which were in service from the 21st to the 31st. After ten days of bombardment, only half of the trebuchets were still working properly. 

In the end, the east and south walls of Tamworth were shattered, the battlements fell, and the walls collapsed. Thirty warriors could walk side by side through the widest gap. 

Gunnar approached him and asked: "Your Majesty, there are not many defenders on the wall. Should I order the attack?" 

"Don't worry, play with them for a while." 

Ragnar's heart skipped a beat at the sight of such terrifying might. Especially impressive was the scene of an entire section of the wall collapsing two days ago. The rocks crashed down with a furious roar, and the air filled with dust and fog, which, in fact, created a beautiful illusion for him that he owned the power of heaven and earth. 

Now he did not hurry to enter the city, but ordered all the canisters of kerosene to be thrown down, leaving an unforgettable impression in the heart of Mercia. 

On the last day of 846 AD, a catapult threw burning canisters of kerosene. As night fell, orange-red fireballs tore through the dark sky and fell with a whistle on Tamworth. The canisters burst, and hot liquid flew in all directions. The city was filled with the smell of burning. The dust and hot air in the air were suffocating. All

That night Ragnar stood silently, wrapped in a thick cloak, until the sky turned pale. When the new year came, he said:

"Veni, Vidi, Vici." (I came, I saw, I conquered)

The general attack was about to begin. The morning meal was especially hearty. There was plenty of fish soup and bread. Each soldier also got a small piece of mutton. For a while, the camp east of the city was filled with the sounds of soldiers gulping. 

Half an hour later, almost two thousand Vikings lined up, belching. They looked relaxed, occasionally teasing their comrades, without any tension from the coming war. 

"Valhalla!"

Shouting slogans, the Vikings poured into the city through the breach. Without the city wall to stop them, the Tamworth militia was driven back step by step, losing only 10% killed and wounded before they dispersed. The few remaining warriors fled to Tamworth Castle in the center of the city, and most of the city came under Viking control. 

Meanwhile, in the northwestern camp…

Listening to the jubilation in the city, Vig gave instructions to Ulf: "In accordance with the previous discussion, Nils and I will lead a detachment into the city, and you will take 300 men to guard the camp and intercept the small group of defeated soldiers fleeing from the city. Any other questions?" "

No, you go."

Having lost to the other two at chess, Ulf could only watch as Vig and Nils entered Tamworth through an empty passage. In response, his immediate subordinates began to hum quietly, complaining that their superior was useless and had made a mistake at such a critical moment. 

"Shut up!" 

Ulf shouted at his subordinates and ordered the noisiest to go to different places to get information, while the rest guarded the passages to prevent the enemy from breaking through in the chaos. 

Listening to the screams and killing in the city, the Viking warriors divided into four groups to block the western gate, the northern gate and the two passages. The sky was blue, the clouds were sparse, and the sun was warm and bright, slanting, giving the men a lazy and tired feeling.

Ulf stretched, leaned against a huge stone, took out the wineskin he had brought with him, took a sip and exhaled a cloud of white steam to calm the shield-bearers surrounding him:

"Mercia is a large country, just like Northumbria, and there are many settlements in the south that we are just waiting to take. After the war, I will think of a way to ask Your Majesty to change the fief, so as not to return to Liverpool and live there in hardship." 

The shield-bearer answered indifferently: "My lord, you have repeated these words countless times. I do not think that His Majesty will easily change the fief. If you take the initiative into your own hands, other nobles will also demand a change of fief. What should we do then?" 

Ulf was stunned by the question. He was not Ragnar's trusted confidant from beginning to end. Moreover, his own talents were far inferior to those of the two most brilliant young men, Vig and Ivar, and even to the guard officers such as Gunnar, Nils, and Orm.

He sipped his wine and considered the most likely scenario:

After the war, Ragnar would first bring the best lands under direct royal jurisdiction, such as Repton and Tamworth, while the less important lands would be divided between Gunnar, Nils, and Orm, the three non-noble retainers.

As for himself…

With a sigh, Ulf heard a loud cry of murder. He climbed to the high ground and saw a fierce battle at the breach in the western wall.

The enemy force numbered fewer than forty men, and they were skilled in combat. The six horsemen bringing up the rear were dressed in black, and their identities were impossible to discern.

"With fewer than forty men, they were able to suppress more than seventy Vikings?"

Ulf realized that these were the Mercian palace guards and led his men to help. By the time they reached the pass, six black-robed horsemen had already rushed out of the city! 

"Stop them!" 

Ulf quickly pulled a short axe from his belt and threw it. The men around him followed his example. Dozens of iron axes spun and struck the bellies and buttocks of the horses, causing them to whinny shrilly. 

"Armored horsemen, aim for their horses!" 

Under Ulf's command, more than twenty archers quickly fired five arrows and successfully shot down three surviving horses. The horsemen tried to resist and were killed by the Vikings who rushed in.

After the plunder, the Vikings divided the armor, helmets, weapons, expensive clothes, purses, and silver crosses of the six riders. They even broke someone's finger to get an emerald gold ring from them. 

In the end, six bloody bodies in their clothes were left in the snow. Someone pulled a bag from the saddle, in which lay a crown of pure gold. 

"My lord, it seems we have killed Burgred, the crown prince of Mercia?" 

Ulf took the crown from the warrior. In the sunlight, the ruby inlaid in the crown reflected a bright and strange, blinding light. 

"It seems so," he said with a half-smile on his face, a hoarse voice, his heart pounding wildly. It took him five minutes to calm down and put the crown back in the bag. 

"Carry the body and follow me to find His Majesty." 

In recent years, the old king had been too weak to manage the affairs of state, and all power had passed to the crown prince Burgred. In Ulf's opinion, killing the crown prince was tantamount to killing the de facto ruler of Mercia. 

This great achievement gave him sufficient grounds to ask for a change of fief after the war. Alone, at last I can keep away from Leonard, that annoying fellow. 

After weighing the advantages and disadvantages of the various fiefs of Mercia, Ulf, led by a shield bearer, found Ragnar besieging Tamworth Castle in the center of the city.

"Your Majesty, we have killed Burgred and taken the crown of Mercia!" 

Ulf squeezed his way to Ragnar with great difficulty, dropped to one knee and held out the crown to him with both hands. Everyone's faces were full of complications. They had not expected this guy to take the first prize.

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