After convincing his fellow countryn in Wales to join the war, Butcherbird returned to Tamworth to report on his mission.
Upon hearing the report, Wigg's expression remained perfectly calm. "Eight hundred sets of damaged armor, plus an entire county as a fief, in exchange for two thousand militia and seven hundred longbown. That is a fair price. You did well."
With the matter of the Welsh reinforcents settled and Butcherbird dismissed, Wigg picked up his water cup and instructed his guards to summon Theowulf, who had been waiting in the reception room.
After Ivar led his army on a northward retreat, Theowulf had remained stationed in Oxfordshire, where he was soon besieged by four thousand Wessex soldiers.
During the subsequent period, the attackers had busied themselves constructing siege engines. However, upon learning of the defeat of Charles Bodini's Frankish army, the Wessex forces were so astounded by Wigg's rapid maneuvers that they imdiately packed up their camp and retreated to Reading.
With the siege lifted, Theowulf heard about the recent series of upheavals and rode posthaste to Tamworth to probe Wigg for his upcoming plans.
"Hand over your cavalry and supply our army with rations. You will take your remaining infantry and garrison Oxfordshire. After the war, your territory will not be reduced."
Different bargaining chips naturally resulted in different treatnt. Now that nobles like Theowulf and Pascal Jr. had lost more than half of their military strength, they were of little practical use. Simply keeping their fiefs was a blessing in itself.
"Yes, Your Majesty," Theowulf said, accepting the terms.
He had a re fifty cavalryn remaining under his command, making him even weaker than an earl like Leonard. With reinforcents from both of them, Wigg's total cavalry force recovered to seven hundred riders.
After Theowulf took his leave, Wigg declined any further visitors. He returned to his study and fell into deep thought as he stared at the cluttered map on his desk, occasionally adding a new mark with his quill.
'Being at a disadvantage in cavalry severely limits our tactical initiative and scouting range. Hmm, I must think of a proper solution,' Wigg mused.
anwhile, in Londinium.
Gunnar had not been having an easy ti recently either, finding himself bogged down in Londinium by a multitude of pressing matters.
First of all, Om and Ulf in the south were still fighting tooth and nail to defend their respective territories. Those damned castles were incredibly sturdy, making a direct assault far too costly in both ti and effort. He had no choice but to deploy troops for a prolonged siege.
Even more troubleso was the chaotic situation plaguing Londinium, Cambridge, and their surrounding regions. Every few days, the soldiers would extort the nearby villages. Initially, they only targeted the Vikings, but eventually, they did not even spare the Angles who shared their own faith. This rampant abuse caused the resentnt among the populace to grow heavier by the day.
The Vikings hated Gunnar, branding him a traitor and refusing to accept his rule. The Anglo-Saxons were also secretly conspiring to find a ruler from their own people, and it was obvious that Ethelbald fit their requirents perfectly.
'That piece of trash could not even conquer Oxfordshire, yet he dares to covet my Londinium?'
Gunnar dispatched an envoy to Reading to personally warn his diocre ally. He demanded that Ethelbald withdraw the spies spreading rumors in his city, or else he would not hesitate to take matters into his own hands.
Once those issues were handled, he focused his primary efforts on dealing with Wigg. According to Charles's report, Wigg possessed five thousand sets of standardized armor. Nearly every soldier was an armored footman, boasting a combat prowess that utterly crushed the Frankish army.
'Strange. A standard set of armor costs at least two pounds. Five thousand sets an ten thousand pounds of silver, not to ntion the standard-issue spears and iron axes for every pikeman. Where did he get so much money?'
Sitting squarely upon his throne, Gunnar narrowed it down to three possibilities.
First, during his tenure as Pri Minister, Wigg secretly embezzled a massive fortune from the national treasury, successfully deceiving Ragnar and the entire cabinet.
Second, Wigg's ability to manage his territory was even more exceptional than his military prowess.
Third, the legends were true; he was the chosen of the gods, and this batch of black armor was a divine gift from the heavens. 'Sothing is not right. The Northern Marches suffer from a freezing climate and rugged terrain; there is hardly any profit to be wrung from that land. He absolutely must have embezzled funds from the treasury and fooled everyone. What a clever sche. I must stabilize the situation in Londinium as soon as possible and personally deal with that cunning viper.'
For more than a week thereafter, the war in southern Britain ground to a stalemate. Wigg stared intently at the map on his desk, feeling that his current predicant was quite similar to the one Ivar had faced.
Should he tackle the hard targets first and save the easy ones for later, or crush the easy ones before moving on to the hard ones?
After pondering for a long ti, Wigg found himself torn. He opted to hold his forces back for the ti being and instead dispatch his navy to raid Gunnar's transport fleets, deciding to base his next move on how the situation unfolded.
Currently, the ducal estate had temporarily requisitioned five two-masted brigantines. Two belonged to the rchants of Teyne Town, and the other three were vessels ordered by Erik Jr. Added to the two owned by the ducal estate, this made a total of seven of these new brigantines.
As the most advanced ships of this era, the sailing performance of the two-masted brigantines far surpassed that of knarr ships and Viking longships. When paired with their new weaponry, they were more than capable of utterly annihilating the enemy's transport fleets.
Regarding the candidate for the fleet commander, Wigg's first thought had been Helgi. However, the man had accidentally sprained his lower back while playing ball and would be unable to fight for the foreseeable future.
After careful consideration, he entrusted the mission to Joren.
Upon receiving his appointnt, Joren galloped back to Teyne Town to inspect the fleet assigned to him.
Boarding one of the two-masted brigantines, he discovered a massive, strange crossbow mounted on both the bow and the stern. Wigg had ntioned this type of weapon before departure, but Joren had never quite figured out how it worked. Scratching his head in bewildernt, he asked the crewn on the deck, "Is this thing actually useful?"
The ship's captain stepped forward to reply. "It is incredibly useful, my lord. The stone projectiles it fires are powerful enough to punch right through the hull of a Viking longship, and it can also launch fire pots to burn the outer shells of enemy vessels to a crisp."
This strange crossbow was called a ballista. Invented in ancient Greece, it had flourished during the Roman Empire. The Duchess had learned of its detailed design from a certain parchnt scroll, and the very first working model had been constructed three months ago.
The chanics of the ballista were relatively complex. Its power derived from a torsion spring system—two bundles of tightly woven horsehair installed vertically within a wooden fra. By twisting these hair bundles, the weapon accumulated massive potential energy, which was then released to hurl stone projectiles or javelins forward with devastating force.
After nurous tests, it was proven that the ballista could launch a twenty-kilogram stone projectile over a distance of three hundred ters. Furthermore, it utilized direct fire. Because its trajectory was flat, the crew could aim at targets with high precision by simply adjusting the sights and the directional chanism.
In contrast, a counterweight trebuchet fired in a parabolic trajectory, resulting in much lower accuracy. Furthermore, the base of the ballista allowed for horizontal rotation and elevation adjustnts, making it far easier to aim during the chaos of battle. It was, without a doubt, much more suited for contemporary naval warfare.
Having familiarized himself with the chanics of the shipborne weapons, Joren gathered the seven captains for a eting and announced that they would set sail for combat in two days.
Soone raised a question. "Admiral, where are we attacking?"
"I will tell you when the ti cos," Joren replied.
Taking the need for strict secrecy into consideration, Joren kept his lips sealed prior to their departure. It was only after the fleet had sailed out of the mouth of the River Tyne that he summoned the seven captains again to brief them on the detailed battle plan.
"You want us to attack the Frankish army?"
Fear blood in the hearts of so n, and they instinctively resisted such a highly dangerous mission. However, they had no choice in the matter. Every brigantine was equipped with an additional twenty-five soldiers clad in brigandine armor. Aside from executing boarding operations, these troops also served the dual purpose of enforcing military discipline.
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