Ch 80: Winchester

In early April, after settling various matters, Vig led two thousand five hundred men and a large amount of military supplies to Oxfordshire.

“You’ve finally arrived.”

These days, Ragnar dispatched small groups of troops to search the surrounding area, capturing nearly six hundred prisoners, but there was still no news of Æthelwolf.

After assigning three hundred men to guard the city, Ragnar led the remaining troops to Winchester. Along the way, he happened to encounter Ivar, who was retreating. Ivar was carrying a large number of warhorses, followed by a rearguard of over a thousand Anglo-Saxon militia.

After defeating the pursuers, Ragnar inquired about the battle situation, “What happened?”

Ivar sat on the ground, gasping for breath, “Æthelwolf is still alive. He returned to Winchester to reorganize the defenses. I heard he immediately sent reinforcements after the riding school was attacked. Ha, luckily I ran fast.”

Including Ivar’s troops, the number of Viking soldiers was restored to four thousand. They arrived at the northern suburbs of Winchester along the road.

This city is surrounded by the River Itchen on the east and south sides. As the siege commander, Vig rode his horse around the city walls of Winchester, deciding to attack from the west and north sides.

The construction of the siege camp and the felling and transport of timber began; the war entered its most tedious and boring phase. By mid-May, the allied army of the remaining four Anglo-Saxon kingdoms arrived.

After learning the number of enemy troops from scouts, Ivar, who had been idly spending his days, perked up, “Over two thousand people dare to come looking for death?”

Entangled by numerous trivial matters, Vig could not get away and could only watch helplessly as Ivar and Gunnar advanced eastward to intercept this loosely formed group of militia.

After a month and a half of intensive training, Gunnar’s cavalry expanded to two hundred men. While Ivar attracted the enemy’s attention at the front, he led the cavalry around to the hillside behind the enemy’s flank, launching a charge from a high position.

The Anglo-Saxon allied army’s tactics were backward, and they had no awareness of a cavalry flank attack. After this devastating blow, the monarchs of Sussex and Essex were killed on the spot, and the King of Kent was seriously wounded, dying within a week. Only the King of East Anglia ran the fastest and barely escaped with his life.

In less than half a day, the four small Anglo-Saxon kingdoms in southeastern Britain suffered heavy losses. Ivar had people collect weapons, armor, and national banners, all piled up beneath the walls of Winchester, severely damaging the morale of the city garrison.

Looking at those flamboyant Viking riders, Ragnar sighed to those around him:

“Times have changed. From now on, cavalry will be the key to deciding a battle. Perhaps I should emulate the Frankish system, promoting some Viking soldiers to knights, allowing them to practice martial skills in peacetime and respond to conscription in wartime.”

Having made up his mind, Ragnar had people find captured Frankish knights to inquire in detail about the knightly system, including manor size, military obligations, taxes levied, and the upbringing of knights’ offspring.

Ragnar devoted all his energy to studying the Frankish feudal system, leaving the camp’s daily affairs to the siege commander, Vig, while Ivar, Gunnar, and others were responsible for clearing the surrounding area and intercepting and killing small groups of reinforcements arriving from various places.

By June, the Vikings had won more than ten consecutive victories, completely extinguishing the local trend of loyalty to the king.

However, no matter how many victories, they could not boost the soldiers’ morale. After more than half a year of fighting, the morale in the army was low, and deserters appeared every day. Vig asked Ragnar for his opinion, and the answer he received was “You decide.”

In order to maintain military discipline, Vig was forced to play the villain. He divided Gunnar’s cavalry into twenty squads, taking turns going out to catch deserters, barely stopping the trend of soldiers fleeing.

One day, a rider found Vig’s tent, “Sir, we have discovered a very strange place, you might be interested.”

Putting down his ledger, Vig rushed to the scene, finding the riders gathered around a hole, whispering.

“I guess it’s a wealthy man’s treasure cave.”

“I don’t think so, the atmosphere is eerie. It must be the nest of some monster.”

At this time, a tall and thin man with a foul odor crawled out of the cave. This man had rare white short hair and excitedly shouted to his companions:

“I crawled into the cave for a long time, and the front was blocked by mud. I hit it twice with an iron axe, and I found a ring!”

The white-haired man took out a gold ring from his bosom, causing the riders to shout and urge him to treat them.

“Quiet!”

Vig called the man over, ignoring the stench, “Is the whole cave made of brick and stone? Does it extend into the city?”

“It seems so.”

The white-haired man scratched his itchy skin, saying that he had accidentally discovered this cave while patrolling, mistaking it for deserters hiding inside, and he endured the foul odor to crawl in, finally obtaining this precious gold ring.

“What is your name?”

“‘White Hair’ Oleg.”

Vig stretched, in a good mood, “Congratulations, you have received the favor of the gods, ‘White Hair’ Oleg. Come with me to see His Majesty.”

On a hill to the northwest, Ragnar and his lover Aslaug were hunting. Vig rode straight up to them, “Your Majesty, I have found a way to breach the city.”

Dismissing his lover, Ragnar threw his bow and arrow to the nearest guard, “How do you plan to do it?”

Vig pointed to the white-haired rider not far away, “This man is very lucky. He found an abandoned sewer leading into the city. The Anglo-Saxons are slovenly in their lives and allowed it to become silted up and abandoned. After four hundred years, they probably forgot about it. We can clear the sewer and dispatch a small squad to infiltrate the city.”

“Good, go ahead. Settle it within a month. If we delay any longer, the number of deserters will only increase.”

With Ragnar’s permission, Vig set up a branch camp in the western suburbs of Winchester and erected a large tent on top of the cave to prevent the excavation work from being exposed.

After twenty days of continuous effort, the sewer was cleared, and two hundred carefully selected elite soldiers infiltrated the city along the passage.

To divert the attention of the garrison, the siege engines in the northern camp operated at full force, with stones whistling as they slammed into the city walls. More than ten siege towers slowly advanced, attracting a large number of archers to shoot arrows.

Finally, when everything was ready, Oleg carefully climbed to the ground. Luckily, this was not a busy marketplace, but an abandoned mansion.

As time passed, the two hundred Vikings assembled. Leaving a small portion to guard the courtyard, Oleg led the rest out of the courtyard, identified the direction, and charged towards the west gate at the fastest speed.

After a bloody battle, the Vikings eliminated the hundred soldiers near the city gate and jointly lifted the heavy gatepost.

Seeing this, the long-awaited cavalry unit launched a rapid assault. Hundreds of paces were covered in an instant; they charged through the city gate and crashed into the crowd, wielding longswords and hacking and slashing at the garrison who came to reinforce.

Gaining precious three minutes, large numbers of light infantry finally flooded into the city, using their overwhelming numerical superiority to defeat Wessex’s counterattack.