Ch 9: Attack

Ivar put his arm around Vig’s shoulders. “It was worth all the effort teaching you swordsmanship. Free sometime to fight again?”

“Forget it, no need.” Even after this “enlightenment,” Vig didn’t think he’d reached the top level of combat ability, unsuitable for showing off.

Counting the number of people, only twelve remained in the caravan. One of Rurik’s attendants died from an arrow, and two shield-bearers died in close-quarters combat with the nomads.

Due to being at a severe equipment disadvantage, the nomads left twenty-five corpses in the forest. To vent their anger, they took the furs and amber from the ship and then burned the cargo ship, completely cutting off the caravan’s hopes.

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

Rurik objected. “Improper, we have no chance of victory in the open area.” After saying this, his brows furrowed, he sat on the ground pondering for a long time, finally making up his mind.

“Find outside help. There’s a Rus’ tribe to the southwest with whom I have a good relationship. It’s two days’ journey from here. Let’s go there to seek shelter.”

Ivar: “You hesitated for so long, do you think this relationship is unreliable?”

“I saved the chieftain two years ago. He proposed marrying his daughter to me, but I refused.” Rurik sighed. “Now that we need help, I guess I can’t avoid this marriage.”

Rurik wasn’t lying. When his figure appeared at the gate of the tribe, it instantly caused a small commotion. The chieftain warmly invited the caravan into the longhouse and entertained them with honey-coated wheat bread.

Honey and white bread, both considered luxury goods in the eyes of peasants, were now being provided without limit to the caravan members. Vig felt somewhat uneasy.

He secretly nudged Rurik with his elbow. “We are just a band of passing Vikings. Is this necessary?”

The latter raised his honey wine and drank it down in one gulp, belching in reply. “Burp, you don’t need to make that expression. Eastern European soil is fertile, suitable for growing wheat and raising bees. Life is much better than in Northern Europe. Otherwise, why would so many Vikings migrate here every year?”

That’s right.

Vig recalled historical records from posterity. For a long time, the Rus’ tribes of Eastern Europe have been deeply influenced by the Vikings, and the exchanges between the two sides have become increasingly deeper, forming the initial Rus’ state in the mid-ninth century.

The first Rus’ monarch was a Viking, I think his name was Rurik.

Rurik!

Vig, neglecting his meal, repeatedly looked at this tall and strong red-haired youth, making the latter very uneasy. “What are you trying to do?”

“No, nothing.”

Soon, the tribal chieftain asked Rurik the reason for his visit. Upon learning that his cargo ship had been burned, he immediately slammed his fist on the table in anger. “In recent years, the Pecheneg Tribe has become increasingly rampant, not only plundering caravans but also regularly stealing our wheat every year. I’ve long disliked them!”

Then, the chieftain promised to send people to help retrieve the goods, on the condition that Rurik marry his youngest daughter.

“Good, I agree.”

Seemingly worried that his son-in-law would go back on his word, the chieftain chose to hold the wedding that afternoon.

Under the gaze of a thousand people, he personally slaughtered cattle and sheep, sacrificed to the sun god Dažbog and the thunder god Perun, followed by an extremely lively wedding ceremony.

Without paying attention to the expressions of the newlyweds, Vig took advantage of the opportunity to eat and drink his fill, supplementing his nutrition after the recent hardships. After the banquet, he went to the guest room to rest. Due to spending a long time sleeping outdoors, his body was no longer used to the soft bed with straw bedding; he was sleepless for more than two hours before falling asleep.

Three days later, the chieftain provided one hundred and fifty young men as promised. “Rurik, you and your companions are outstanding warriors. I’m waiting for your good news.”

The number was too small, and the odds of victory were not high. Before departing, Vig found Rurik and suggested that he make more preparations.

“Have the blacksmith cast some caltrops. Also, have the carpenter improve the structure of the supply wagons.”

After another two days’ delay, the punitive expedition set off along a small road.

With twelve Vikings wearing iron armor, the Rus’ morale was quite strong. Heavy infantry in armor against unarmored nomads was a crushing advantage, provided the Pechenegs didn’t run away.

“Hey, is it true? You single-handedly killed ten nomads?”

Along the way, many Rus’ youths approached Vig, repeatedly asking questions in broken Norse and gestures, making him dizzy. He simply attributed everything to Ivar.

“Ask ‘Boneless’ Ivar. My martial skills were taught by him. During battle, pay attention to his movements; maybe you’ll be lucky enough to learn a couple of tricks.”

The next morning, nomadic cavalry appeared in the south. Realizing that this force was about to attack their tribe, the nomads scattered across the steppe began to muster.

Around three o’clock in the afternoon, two hundred riders had gathered in front. The leader held a blue banner with a white horse, the edges of the banner embroidered with gold thread.

The banner swayed rhythmically three times, and the nomads, raising their bows, whistled as they charged. What puzzled them was that these Rus’ people had adopted a strange battle tactic. They surrounded eighteen supply wagons in a loose circular formation and then retreated into the formation to defend.

Soon, the nomads charged to within fifty paces, showering the formation with arrows. On Rurik’s orders, the Rus’ archers launched a counterattack. They stood on the wagons, using the wooden planks of the wagons as cover and exchanged arrows with the enemy.

Due to the bumpy horse ride and the smaller draw weight of the mounted bows, the mounted archers were inferior to the foot archers in range, power, and accuracy. After a brief exchange of arrows, the nomads suffered twenty casualties, while the defenders suffered only three.

The tactics passed down through generations were ineffective, and the nomadic chieftain panicked. After repeated observation, he keenly noticed that the gap at the northeast corner of the formation was large enough for ten horses to pass side-by-side, and those archers looked young and hadn’t hit anyone the whole time.

A weak point?

Realizing this, he personally led the charge into the formation with his banner. However, these Rus’ people didn’t show the expected panic; instead, they formed a line and held their spears horizontally, as if they had been prepared for this.

“Trap! Retreat!”

Unfortunately, it was too late. The archers on the wagons began to throw caltrops, hindering the movement of the riders outside the formation. Meanwhile, led by the Viking heavy infantry warriors, the Rus’ used spears to thrust at the riders who were trapped in the formation and unable to move freely.

Seeing one tribesman after another being knocked off their horses, the chieftain felt as if he had fallen into an ice cave. Helplessly, he ordered his tribesmen to abandon their horses and escape through the gaps in the formation. Many, in their panic, stepped on caltrops and fell to the ground, then were accurately shot down by the archers.

In just ten minutes, the battle ended with the nomads’ crushing defeat. They left a total of seventy corpses, while the casualties of the formation’s defenders were only seven!

In addition, twenty-five warhorses were left behind inside the formation. Just from these mounts, this expedition was a huge success.