222. The Snake That Climbs the Tree (4).
222. The Snake That Climbs the Tree (4).
The advantage of physical labor was that all sorts of idle thoughts disappeared.
Why weren't there such things? Those images of old monks sitting on sheer cliffs stretching up into the sky and meditating. Could one say that through the hardship of the body, one could momentarily feel that state of no-mind that came at such moments?
Like marathon runners who, upon reaching a certain level, felt a runner's high and kept running. Thoughts disappeared and one entered a stage of tranquility.
Because I was alone thinking thoughts that no one in this world could truly understand, reality gradually approached and awakened my mind, which had been as clear as the gentle ripples of a still pond.
'I'd dug quite a lot.'
If someone well-versed in military science had seen it, they would have seen pits reminiscent of World War I trenches. The difference, however, was that these pits were not for defense, but holes created by filling the enemy's moat for the attack.
Though it wasn't grand enough to be called the traces of the Earth Killer, as my Frisian warriors and my men jokingly said, it was a very satisfying result for what was accomplished in just three short days.
Thanks to my frantic shoveling, a muddy passageway wide enough for people to cross had formed on the southern moat of Verden Fortress, and as a bonus, a few pits that could protect the body from enemy arrows also appeared.
"Fylkir, our warriors are ready."
If I'd had a little more time, I really would have tried building a mound of earth, but with the movements from Paderborn weighing on my mind, I had no choice but to launch a somewhat crude attack this time, too.
Still, it wasn't as if I had wasted the past three days. A great gain was that, thanks to the efforts of Jarl Harald of Kaupang and his warriors, who repeatedly advanced and retreated at the western wall, I was able to get a rough look at the enemy's supply situation and combat readiness.
The enemy was completely unprepared for a sudden defensive siege.
"Then sound the signal, Konungr Hrorek. Let's push hard today."
"Yes! Fylkir! Hrodulf! Send the signal!"
[Bwoooon-!! Dung! Dung! Dung! Dung!]
From the start, they had far greater numbers than our North Sea and Frisian allied forces and even had the advantage of home ground, so they probably could not even imagine defeat in the field.
But anyway, they had been routed before the walls of Bremen, and everyone around this fortress must have felt that Verden's situation, having taken in an unplanned rout and suddenly 6,000 soldiers, was not very good.
"Well, shall we go too?"
"Yes. If not the shining hall of Valhalla, then let us see each other again in the gloomy hall of Verden, Helgi."
The sound of horns and the rhythmic beating of drums made of animal skins sounded, and I stepped forward with the Frisian warriors; at my side were Ivar and Sætorolfr.
Torbjörn, who had always guarded my side, along with Rune and the entire cavalry, were in the newly occupied North Sea territory of Rouen and its surroundings, supporting peacekeeping activities and Leofric's intelligence operations.
If I had wanted the occupation and domination of all northern Saxony, I would have requested additional reinforcements from Britain or mainland Scandinavia, but the objective of this East Frankish campaign was, after all, the fall of Hamburg and the reordering of all powers situated to its east, so I did not let myself become greedy.
Thus, the troops that could move with me here were my 500-man guard, 2,000 warriors from Kaupang, and 2,500 Frisians — around 5,000 in total.
One might have asked if our numbers wouldn't be insufficient against a stone wall defended by 6,000, but I judged that we had a chance of victory in my own way.
Their morale had already been severely shaken at the Battle of Bremen, and conversely, our side's morale had soared to the heavens thanks to my spectacular digging(?), and above all, my own body and senses were showing the best condition ever after three days of warming up.
It was worth trying. And if we poked once and the resistance seemed a little stubborn, couldn't we just quietly pull out? The power of initiative on the battlefield was always about being able to choose one step ahead.
Therefore, I smiled at Ivar and Sætorolfr, who were spreading out the formation to my left and toward Örn, and walked toward the wall with a stride full of confidence.
[Swaaaak- Swaaaak-!]
"Arrows! Shields!"
"Raise shields!"
[Thud-thud-thud- Thud-thud-thud-]
I had taken about five steps. The force of the arrows flying in at once was fierce. The impacts transmitted to my shield, held firmly with both hands, were about a couple.
As I crept forward in that state, the solid shield wall of the North Sea warriors moved along behind me.
[Thud-thud- Thud-thud- Swaaak- Swaak-! Thwack!]
Two or three volleys of arrows followed, and I overcame the muddy passage and climbed onto the relatively clean ground near the wall.
The closer I got to the wall, the more intense their arrow baptism became, and I gradually began to hear the voices of the East Frankish warriors on the wall.
Block here! Shoot there! Prepare for ladders! Roughly those kinds of things.
Conversely, in our formation that had reached the enemy wall first, the shout to bring the ladders was naturally relayed, tailing itself, to the rear of the line.
"Bring the ladders here right now! My shield is getting heavier! Hurry!"
"Tell them the path is all cleared, so just run over! Just run with them in both hands!"
[Swaak-! Pabak! Swaaak! Pak!]
"Stop shooting! You Frank bastards!"
"Just try climbing the wall! You'll all die!"
The warriors of the guard who had fought through all sorts of hellish battles with me were each already terrifying human weapons. Moreover, being fervent followers of Hel, they had overcome their fear of death to some extent, and even as they spewed all kinds of curses with bloodshot eyes, they looked composed.
The difference between them and other warriors could be clearly seen when compared to the Frisian warriors who were still advancing with their shields raised.
The wolves of the Garmr Brotherhood, who would throw their whole bodies into fire and storm without hesitation if I commanded it, began to occasionally draw their bows and shoot at enemies who exposed themselves too much on the wall, leading the fight.
[Pyung! Pyupyung! Swaaaak- Thud-thud! Pabak!]
"Aaaaargh-!"
"One's falling!"
[Kung!]
"Hel, God! He almost fell right on top of me! Then don't shoot arrows!"
[Pyung! Pyupyung!]
"Another one's falling!"
"I said stop shooting!"
"Graaah!"
[Kung!]
Amid the fearsome arrows embroidering the air, long, sturdy ladders finally arrived.
"Out of the way! Everyone out of the way!"
"Going up!"
[Tuk!]
"One, two-!"
"Yaaaap!"
Warriors, all as one, charged in with their shields raised above their heads and slowly lifted the massive heavy wooden ladder into the air.
At that sight, the enemies on the wall went into convulsions and moved in unison, and the vibration was vividly felt by me below.
[Kiiiik- Tak!]
"Brace the bottom firmly!"
"There! That bastard! He's trying to chop the ladder with an axe! Shoot him dead, quick!"
[Pyung! Pyupyung!]
"Do you know how we carried this all the way here!? Protect it no matter what!"
[Pyung! Swaaak- Thud-thud! Thud!]
War was a truly filthy, grueling, and difficult affair. The East Frankish and North Sea warriors, driven by malice and shrieking at the top of their lungs, waged a fierce battle of nerves over a single long wooden ladder, desperately firing arrows all the while.
"Stórolf! Hold your position! Do not climb the ladder just yet! Those with strength to spare, take up your bows!"
I stopped Stórolf, who had been on the right flank of our ranks and came charging like an enraged bull snorting steam the moment the ladder touched the enemy wall, and unfastened the great bow slung across my back instead of my greatsword.
Their fervent attention was now wholly upon us, the North Sea army who had achieved the feat of raising the first ladder.
Arrows were bound to rain down from the front and from both flanking blind spots—I could not very well push my warriors into that spot.
Until the Frisian warriors, who were striding ever forward thanks to us drawing all the aggression, reached the wall, I resolved to shoot down every insolent forearm and helmet that poked up over the rampart as if I were hunting fowl.
"Shoot without sparing a single shaft! We shall empty every quiver and then climb their wall!"
[Creak— whirrrr— thwip! Shhhk! Thud!]
Instead of charging in recklessly, Stórolf stood beside me shielding us with a large shield in each hand. In truth, I had already swatted one blind arrow away with my hand and deflected another with an arrow I was holding, so I had no need of such cover, yet I saw no reason to dampen the spirit of a subordinate who was working so diligently.
When I released the bowstring smoothly as it screamed fiercely and began to writhe from being drawn without mercy, the string, having regained its freedom in an instant, launched the long arrow with a powerful snap of its limbs, and the shaft flew in a straight line and mercilessly pierced whatever target lay in its path.
"Gyaaaak—! My arm!! My arm!!"
A spray of blood shot up alongside a cry, and the bow that fell from the left arm of an East Frankish warrior plummeted below the wall.
[Shhhk—!! Thud!]
Simultaneously, I lightly snatched an incoming arrow from the air with my right hand.
[Creak! Thwip! Shhhk—!]
And then I immediately drew the bowstring and sent this very arrow back toward the place from whence it had flown.
"Uh—"
[Thud!]
"Gk—"
The arrow punched through the helmet of the valiant East Frankish warrior who had been watching to see whether the arrow he had fired had struck its mark.
The nameless warrior, who had been trying to touch the arrow that neatly connected his helmet and his skull with both hands while his eyes went wide, slowly rolled his eyes back and toppled forward.
[Whish— Boom!]
"Agh! Ah, come on— really!"
Unfortunately for the North Sea warrior standing directly beneath him, he did not appear to have taken a serious blow, and he scrambled to shove the fallen body off him while venting his irritation, though he surely knew well enough that it could not be helped.
Feeling a touch of unwarranted guilt, I hastened to aim my bowstring, shooting every last one of those who raised both hands to hurl stones or who leaned out too far the moment I spotted them.
[Thwip!]
"Urk!"
[Thwip!]
"Agh!"
One scream for every ceaselessly twanging bowstring.
At the edge of my vision as I picked off only the choicest morsels, I finally saw one great ladder after another beginning to rise against the wall.
At the same time, the fierce hail of stones and arrows seemed to thin, if only slightly.
Arrows could be blocked by some means or other, but there was no particular recourse against the dropping of heavy stones, so while the wounded who had sustained injuries great and small were being escorted to the rear, I at last drew the iron club from my belt.
[Shk—]
Once I climbed atop the wall, the confined space would make it difficult to swing a greatsword as large as a grown man anyway, and the risk of striking my own comrades meant I must not swing such a long weapon in the first place.
What weapon suited me best in tight quarters, then? A dagger? An axe? For one, any blade would strike an enemy shield or catch wrongly on bone and lose its edge, so I would have to carry several.
'But a club it was.'
This iron club forged from a single lump of steel was crudely shaped, but the fact that I could swing it without pause made it a weapon that suited me perfectly.
"Stórolf! Shield!"
[Thump!]
As I kicked off the ground and broke into a run, Stórolf tossed me a shield.
Both my left hand and my right hand were already holding something, but this was no great problem.
[Tap-tap!]
In the blink of an eye I reached the foot of the ladder and, without slowing my pace in the slightest, ran straight between the warriors who were gripping the ladder tightly on either side.
The weight of the armor and the great shield, plus the solid iron hammer with a rounded head perfectly shaped for clubbing a man—climbing with all of it might have been difficult, but to me, such concerns meant nothing at all.
Because the ladder had been hastily thrown together, the spacing of the rungs was slightly lacking in detail, but my long strides climbed the high ladder with ease, pulling me ever upward.
[Tap! Tap! Tap!]
A feat of climbing the ladder by the strength of both legs alone. The East Frankish warriors sent arrows flying at the sight of me striding up through the air in an instant like a winged tiger, but I swung the great shield left and right, cleanly snapping the shafts of the arrows in two.
"Hup!"
[Whisk— Tak!]
On the final step I put in a little more strength to launch my body upward, then landed on both feet.
The Franks' skill at fortification was indeed no less than that of the old Roman walls. A broad and sturdy rampart. The feel of the stone bearing my weight firmly was reassuring.
"Uh—"
"That's—"
Had my mad rampage in the previous battle at Bremen been worth it after all? The warriors who recognized me froze on the spot like mice before a cat, gaping blankly at me without the faintest idea of how to react for a moment.
"..."
"..."
[Thwip! Thwip! Whisk! Whisk! Shhhk!]
Save for the space around us where silence had descended, the walls of Verden were wholly consumed by a ferocious battle.
The moment of peace was soon shattered by the shouts of East Frankish warriors that sounded like screams.
"Kill him! We must kill him! Kill the demon!"
"Stab him! Stab!"
"Uwaaaah!"
Even as the East Frankish warriors, their eyes rolled back with fury and terror, charged at me all at once, my mind, as if broken somewhere, felt neither threat nor fear.
"Hrryah—!!"
Taking in the sight of them sluggishly winding up their assault, I leaped forward with force and kicked the enemy right before me.
[Kwaaang—!!!]
"Keok—!"
[Thud-ud-ud!]
"Aagh!"
As if struck by a launched stone, as if seized and yanked backward by some colossal force, the Frankish warrior flew backward. Before the gouts of blood he spewed could even settle upon the rampart, the enemies swept up alongside him screamed and collapsed in a heap.
Toward the enemy ranks whose wits had frozen for an instant at that sight, I lunged first, gauging the weight of shield and iron club once more.
☆☆☆☆☆Reference☆☆☆☆☆
Samuraiantiqueworld, CC BY-SA 3.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0>, via Wikimedia Commons
Images of the mace-type weapons that come to mind when you hear 'blunt instrument.'
I think the iron club Helgi swings, rather than being an elegant(?) weapon like these, is more like the ash-wood club Heracles would swing but made from solid iron... that's the image lol.
Of course, an iron club would eventually bend if you swing it around enough... but for now, the advantage is that you can beat a lot of people with it (?)...!!!