178. A Season of Pure White and Hearts That Are Not (4).
178. A Season of Pure White and Hearts That Are Not (4).
In the place Padlan proudly led us to lay crystalline masterpieces of engineering that swelled a man's heart.
Indeed, past, present, and future—it was the engineers who ruled the world!
"These are items that reflect all the points Lord Philkir ordered! Please take your time examining them."
"Thank you, Padlan."
Padlan's face, which had held a certain solemnity when explaining the sewer problem that was sure to become a great undertaking, now held pride and satisfaction.
That was how proud he was of the siege weapons created by the scholars and craftsmen of the University of Árós.
'Let's see, was this the battering ram? The thing had evolved splendidly!'
Father was proud of you!
The battering ram had shed the somewhat crude and intuitive form that I had once cobbled together with my brothers and followers.
Of course, my original(?) battering ram, though a bit rough, had a certain romance steeped in the blood and sweat of my followers—but romance was the first thing to be cast aside on the battlefield.
The large roof was sloped into a triangle, good for reducing weight and blocking all sorts of projectiles, and walls had been erected on both sides so that warriors plastered to the sides could do their work without worry, making it look like a cozy house.
'In a way, it looked like a longship turned upside down, didn't it?'
There were those who were disappointed that the houses in eastern Árós, which Leon planned to extensively modify, were increasingly departing from the distinctive Norse longhouse style, but to think that the housing(?) tradition would be carried on in this way.
Indeed, a Norseman's home was on the battlefield—was that it, perhaps?
"Lord Philkir! Look at the head of this ram! A ram's head!"
"The shepherds would be pleased to see it! Haha!"
Unfortunately, my guards, who had no knowledge of engineering, had been looking at the pipe—which could be called the essence of science and engineering—while gauging my reactions and pretending to be interested, but now in front of the siege weapons they were laughing and enjoying themselves like Constantine or Hrolf.
"The gate will be most pleased."
"Truly! Ah, with a battering ram of this size, no matter how strong the gate, it could not hold out for long."
Torbjörn's words held exaggeration, but the battering ram before us was that impressive. It felt as if a single thick-grained tree had been taken whole and suspended inside a spacious and sturdy house.
At its end, a ram's head meticulously crafted from iron stared straight ahead with a malicious expression.
'Roman technology was really good.'
In truth, most of the technology used to build this battering ram came from the craftsmen and books that had come from Rome.
When I sent the Meteor Sword as a gift to Roman Emperor Michael, I had actually requested that he share some of the technology and raw materials needed to produce 'Greek fire.'
As it turned out, Greek fire was a state-designated strategic material that even the Roman Emperor could not export at will, so I did not get it.
The expression Damian had worn, sweating profusely, when he told me that.
I, who had been pleased just to see the flustered look on the face of that seasoned Roman fox, told him it was fine and to forget it, but apparently Damian and the Emperor could not let it go so easily.
In an age where face and honor were everything, the slightest damage to the Emperor's dignity was a great matter to them, and as a result, numerous craftsmen and siege knowledge arrived in Árós by waterway, as if to reveal all of Rome's siege knowledge except Greek fire.
Therefore, in a sense, the weapons Padlan was now proudly displaying could be said to be about half Roman.
'So we were going to strike the old Western Roman lands with Roman-made things? How laughable.'
Was this a proxy war or something?
"Lord Philkir! Look at this!"
I, who was not easily outdone in size and height, found myself humbled before a battering ram the size of a small building.
Rune, who was easily distracted, was already gaping in front of the next siege weapon.
"Oh—it's far better made than I expected."
What stood before my eyes was a so-called siege tower, and its height was truly absurdly tall.
"This really moves?"
"May I go inside?"
"First of all, it'll be useful for observing beyond the walls. I've always been most curious about what the bastards on the other side are doing."
The veteran guards, who had followed their worthless lord and fought all over Europe, were already gazing intently at the tower reeking of pine resin, as if envisioning the battlefield in their minds.
Beside them, Padlan extended one arm and calmly explained.
"As you confirmed with the battering ram, it is basically mounted on wheels, so it cannot be used on rough mountainous terrain or steep slopes. However, according to the information the merchants passed on, the Rouen that Lord Philkir is considering is a fortress situated at a river mouth. That means the surrounding area is a plain."
As Padlan said, the fact that we knew the area well had played a large part in deciding to take the Seine. Our merchants traveled around West Frankia, and conversely, the merchants of West Frankia also visited us.
Probably both West and East Frankia knew that the North Sea was preparing something. But the time given to them to take any measures was too short.
Conversely, we actually had little to prepare.
"Therefore, while making it taller than the fortress height, we took care to ensure it would not easily collapse. We sheathed the front in thin iron plates, which made it a little heavier, but it will save more lives. The warriors should be pleased, shouldn't they!"
At the mention of it being heavier, the guards all furrowed their brows and turned their gazes toward Padlan, but Padlan, who was gradually revealing his mad scientist side, did not budge.
"Moreover, we actively incorporated your instruction that it must be easy to disassemble and reassemble, so as long as there are skilled engineers, it can be quickly broken down and put together anywhere—"
The necessary materials were to be transported by ship and assembled directly on land.
Moreover, given my nature that valued flexibility, the first floor of the siege tower could even be used as a battering ram. Although the Franks' fortification techniques were excellent, I could be confident that Rouen's walls could be breached, unless they were on the level of Constantinople's walls.
Padlan and the guards stuck close as I slowly moved my feet. In Padlan's eyes as he introduced the siege weapons like an otter showing off its pup, there was something like love? pride? satisfaction?—some incomprehensible emotion.
"This is the scorpio to be mounted on top of the siege tower. It is a mechanically launched arrow. Since it can easily pierce North Sea armor and shields, I think it can deal effective damage to the defenders. It can be operated by just two warriors—"
Perhaps because it lay beside the heart-stirring siege tower, the large mechanical device looked more adorable than expected. As Padlan said, the scorpio was a sort of mechanical crossbow.
It was too large for a person to hold and shoot; it was a weapon that needed a place to be mounted. Its power, needless to say, was formidable.
In fact, a further developed version, a kind of machine-gun-like automatic crossbow (polybolos), was also on the institute's top-priority research list, but unfortunately it was still under development.
Above all, on a battlefield full of uncertainties, something simple might be better than a weapon that required a lot of attention, so for now the scorpio had been adopted.
"This can definitely be used in the field, too. Its range is much longer than something pulled by hand, isn't it."
"That's right, Lord Philkir."
Especially Rune, the prince of the fallen kingdom of the Gorge, who was serious about weapons that were thrown or launched like arrows and javelins, was gazing at the mechanical crossbow with a somewhat dreamy look in his eyes.
"The age of the javelin is truly over...!"
'That ended long ago.'
Leaving behind the prince of the fallen Gale kingdom, who was one of those seeking romance on the battlefield, as my guards rushed over to try shooting it and Padlan went back into engineer mode to show them how, I looked over the somewhat plainer supplies.
If it were up to me, I would have liked to bring out a trebuchet, the perfected form of the catapult, and fire it, but this counterweight catapult required far more engineering knowledge than expected, so regrettably it was currently in the research stage along with the automatic crossbow.
'Actually, it was difficult to practically breach gates or walls with catapult fire.'
Because a wall was not simply a vertical stack of stones or palisades, it was hard to expect the wall to come crashing down from catapult fire. We had already confirmed this with mini catapults at Beodericksworth.
That was why, perhaps, even more important than the siege tower my guards were now climbing like excited children, or the crossbow that fired large arrows with a hair-raising [Thwump! Whiiiing—!] sound, were the supplies for building a fortified camp.
Shovels, pickaxes, stakes cut at various angles and nails, tough rope, practical tents that could shelter from rain and warm the body.
'A siege was like another kind of construction. A proper encampment was what mattered most.'
And these shovels and pickaxes. If used properly, they could even dig beneath the wall and collapse the very ground the wall stood on.
Of course, I did not know if there would be that much time for this siege of Rouen.
In truth, the reason the North Sea forces under my command had been able to succeed in the difficult art of siege warfare several times in a short time was because I had one siege weapon more powerful than any other.
'Just make me a small gap. I'll handle the rest.'
Gazing with satisfaction at the array of supplies produced by Padlan, the scholars, the merchants, and the Roman siege engineers, I renewed my resolve.
*****
The second month of winter. Full moon.
As the jarls from various regions, having roughly finalized their operational plans, hurried to their own jarldoms in preparation for the full onset of winter, three renowned jarls gathered on the northern coast of Northumbria's Jorvik.
"Well, I've seen everything now in my life! The great Björn, of all people, bringing his precious self beyond Uppsala and all!"
"I'm glad to see you too, Hásteinn."
The names of the three jarls were Björn, Hásteinn, and Ivar.
They had moved with the utmost care, traveling via Frisia and along the coast, and had met under the pretense of honoring Ragnar Loðbrók and the warriors who had fallen in the land of Britain.
In reality, the memorial ceremony ended with a single toast, and the real talk was just beginning to flow.
"So, was it that the past Iberia was flickering before your eyes? Did Ragnar in Valhalla appear in your dreams and scold you, asking what you were doing, holed up on Monsø Island like a decrepit old man?"
It was quite a rude remark, but the relationship between the two was already like that of brothers not of blood.
No, given the old rumors surrounding Hásteinn's birth, one could not even say for certain that they did not share blood.
In any case, Ivar, who had been listening to Hásteinn's grumbling beside him and bursting out with hearty laughter, now chimed in.
"They say the silver coins earned from protecting Helgi's proof are quite substantial. So Helgi does the heavy lifting, and the eldest brother reaps the fruit—isn't something seriously wrong with that?"
The verbal play of the two veteran jarls was as excellent as their sword-handling skills, but Björn did not so much as twitch an eyebrow.
"Since Lord Philkir has said nothing, what problem could there be? And Helgi's proof must be preserved exactly as it is. Even if hundreds of longships laden with silver were brought, it is a treasure that cannot be compared."
"... Look, Björn. You really haven't changed one bit. It was just a joke."
"It wasn't funny at all."
"Damn."
"Ahahahaha!"
Hásteinn always showed a weak side when facing his stubborn brother Björn.
Seeing that the legendary duo was still as strong as ever, Ivar laughed heartily.
At that hearty laugh, the admiring gazes of the warriors, who were all hyped up just from the fact that they were guarding the meeting of great jarls, gathered.
With an unchangingly earnest expression, Björn spoke quietly.
"Hásteinn. Forget Iberia—first it's West Frankia. Lord Philkir intends to move after the sowing season next year. Can Brace offer cooperation?"
"Francia?"
Hásteinn's two eyes soon grew as calm as Björn's low voice.
☆☆☆☆☆ Reference Material ☆☆☆☆☆
The Air War college, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Today we have an assorted platter of siege weapons...!
Vissarion, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
First, the ballista. This is basically a catapult that uses the mechanism of a crossbow.
They mainly launched river stones—nice and round, smooth ones. They say it was effective because it flew far and the sound was intimidating. But as you can see, isn't it a bit complicated and heavy on materials?
Ultimately, it got pushed aside by other types of catapults...
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Roman_Onager.jpg#/media/File:Roman_Onager.jpg, Public domain
The catapult I introduced before! The sling type changes to a spoon shape and it gets a bit bigger!
It even has wheels, so it can be used more flexibly than a ballista!
Of course, neither of them can effectively damage a fortress wall...
Building a wall is fundamentally earthwork—ramming the ground, which in technical terms is called leveling!!! Meaning you have to literally overcome the weight of the earth, and that's pretty much impossible!
No machine-readable author provided. MatthiasKabel assumed (based on copyright claims)., CC BY-SA 3.0 <http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/>, via Wikimedia Commons
This guy is the scorpio! It earned its name because the way it easily pierces armor is like a scorpion's sting!
It's practically a mini ballista...! Versatile enough that just two people can handle it! Not a gentle power at all—brutal force!
When discussing the Roman military's might, people usually mention their incomprehensible aggression and systemization, and their uniformly excellent commanders (with a few exceptions). But you must not overlook the power of these field and siege weapons!
Helgi is planning to put this on top of the siege tower.
Unknown authorUnknown author, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Martin Fickelscherer, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
The battering ram...!
A massive log with an iron ram's head at the end. This weight, which needs at least twenty able-bodied men to haul it back and release, can quietly and solidly smash the enemy's gate to bits.
The biggest problem in using this is the process of getting it right up to the gate itself!
Yonge, Charlotte Mary, (1823-1901), Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
And this is the siege tower...!
Its size and height would vary depending on the battlefield and the fortress it's up against, but it's fundamentally a weapon that makes your heart swell...! Can we call it a medieval and ancient robot? If there were Gundams in the ancient and medieval world, these guys would be it...