Siege Warfare (2): The Successfully Concluded IJ Tactic

With the IJ tactic successfully wrapped up, the enraged Muslims led their forces in a sudden assault on Reggio Calabria as we attacked Messina. Reggio Calabria had no choice but to panic at their abrupt attack.

"Still, this chaos won't last long," Geoffrey explained, and I nodded. "They'll send envoys to halt it."

From Reggio Calabria's perspective, we right in front of them were the greater threat than Messina. There was no reason to escalate into full-scale war with Messina and worsen the disorder. But in the pre-modern era—especially the Middle Ages, without proper communication—it was nearly impossible to clear up the misunderstanding right away. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠So the battle between Messina and Reggio Calabria was sure to drag on for at least three days.

"Three days is tight, but..." Geoffrey's eyes flicked to my side. There stood Alberto, sprightly but dressed in proper Viking garb. "Are you really trusting that boy's word and hiring him as a mercenary?"

"I had no choice."

Killing a young child—equivalent to a modern fourth- or fifth-grader—was next to impossible. True, much of that sentiment had faded since my soul possessed this body, but it didn't mean I could slaughter a kid. It might be hard to believe from a modern viewpoint, but even back then, people hesitated to kill children. Historical records showed that even battle-mad Vikings spared them, capturing and selling them as slaves or raising them as soldiers instead.

In this situation, I had no intention of killing Alberto either. I'd just assigned him menial tasks like a knight's squire and planned to free him once he came of age. But Alberto was different. This young boy had actually proposed a mercenary contract to me.

"You could have refused?"

"He volunteered to lead the vanguard. He even said he'd put it in writing that he'd face punishment if he failed to find the rat hole."

Geoffrey clicked his tongue at my explanation. "That's no ordinary boldness. So that's why he came with a full contract."

It was awkwardly phrased, but the fact that he'd used writing to draft a contract showed he was no ordinary kid. The terms included a payment upon capturing Reggio Calabria, per the mercenary agreement. Of course, most of that loot would go toward the value of the armor and weapons they currently wore, plus ransom for those still held.

As Geoffrey and I discussed the audacious Alberto, the boy suddenly spoke up cautiously. "I wrote the contract to earn your trust."

"Trust?"

"You might think I'm just lying to escape slavery on a whim."

He was right. Some Vikings did think that, and right after landing, there'd even been talk of selling the boy to Jewish merchants.

"But if I contribute to capturing Reggio Calabria, I thought you'd accept me as one of your own."

"Contribute... But weren't you born here? Why betray your homeland?"

Geoffrey's sharp question. The boy pondered for a moment before answering carefully. "Before I was tricked by merchants and made a slave... I heard something."

"What?"

"That my parents' deaths and my kidnapping were all planned."

"..."

An intentional death. A boy who could write. A planned abduction. It screamed political intrigue in Reggio Calabria. Suddenly, it made sense how Alberto knew a way to connect with the outside.

"Revenge, then."

Geoffrey's succinct words. Alberto nodded silently. Geoffrey burst into loud laughter at the sight.

"To drag us into your revenge— you're no ordinary lad."

"I-I'm sorry, my lord."

"What do you think, Robert?"

Both Humphrey and Geoffrey had started consulting me more often. It meant they respected me, so I carefully voiced my opinion. "We lose nothing by it. And Vidar, god of vengeance, would surely show mercy to just revenge."

Thanks to our deal with the pope, we'd fully converted to Catholicism. But that didn't erase the Norse myths the Vikings had believed in for ages. I invoked Vidar to back Alberto.

Evidently pleased, Geoffrey smiled and turned to Alberto. "Little herald of Vidar, lead the way."

The attack on Messina. Reggio Calabria descended into chaos at the Muslims' sudden assault.

"The Muslims are attacking!"

"Everyone to the coastal walls!"

Unlike the Vikings' raid, a Muslim attack was no everyday occurrence.

"There must be a misunderstanding. We need to send an envoy at once to clear it up."

Reggio Calabria's lord, Andrea, wanted to resolve this through talk. And rightly so—with Vikings lurking in the rear, poised to exploit the chaos, it was obvious.

They sent an envoy, but what returned was only his head.

"These villains..."

Just the head, delivered alone. Beside it lay a letter written in the infidels' tongue.

The lord gestured to a servant to read the infidel script aloud.

As the servant finished reading, the lord's face flushed purple with fury. Sensing it, the servant bowed low and retreated.

"These infidels have crossed the line."

In diplomacy, an envoy was the lord's proxy. Decapitating one signaled total war. Overlooking such an insult would make him look weak to the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lords of Sicily and southern Italy.

Thus, the lord prepared to fight back. But an advisor stepped forward.

"Please, calm yourself."

"If I stay calm here, the free city lords will scorn me—and invite greater threats."

"True, but with Viking barbarians at our doorstep, shouldn't we prepare minimal defenses?"

The advisor's counsel. The lord pondered, then nodded. "What do you suggest?"

"Simple. Hire mercenaries to attack them."

"Mercenaries? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠The only ones nearby are Viking mercenaries. What if they side with the enemy?"

The lord's point was spot-on. Mercenaries were lawless armed bands, quick to ally with foes if interests aligned—hard to trust.

In this context, hiring mercenaries to fight the Normans who'd just raided Reggio Calabria was suicidal.

"What about Moorish mercenaries instead?"

"You mean ally with infidels?"

Moorish mercenaries from North Africa were often deployed in wars. Most refused jobs against fellow Muslims on religious grounds, but those near Tunisia were different.

"Some Moors are Christian. I know a captain leading Christian Moorish mercenaries—we can hire them."

Tunisia had become Muslim territory through Islamic expansion, but its history of close Roman influence made it hard to erase entirely. Christians still lingered there.

"Very well. Hire them."

"Thank you for accepting. I'll get confirmation within a week."

"No need to rush."

The lord's words puzzled the advisor. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠He explained at once. "Vikings are barbarians without siegecraft. Last battle proved it."

During the Reggio raid, the Vikings had struck the coast. Defensive walls had forced the looters to flee. Thus, the lord knew they couldn't breach fortifications.

The advisor had to nod. "Focus on negotiations instead. The Moors will know our plight and demand high pay."

Mercenaries lived by war; news of Messina's attack on Reggio Calabria was surely widespread. Desperation hiked prices. Hasty talks could lead to exorbitant demands from the commercial hub, crippling even in victory.

Ordinary cities might cheat mercenaries out of pay, but Reggio Calabria's trade focus limited its military manpower. Like last time, sudden attacks required total mobilization—men and women alike—for defense.

Looters avoided occupation, so untrained civilians could deter them. But Messina's infidels were professional soldiers, not mere raiders. Citizens alone wouldn't suffice.

"As you say, my lord."

The key to this scheme: Vikings couldn't breach the walls. Everyone, lord included, was certain. No siege tech, and far-off barbarians couldn't bribe locals.

Unaware of events below the walls, the advisor planned defenses as the lord summoned generals for strategy.