Chapter 290: Calais Campaign (2)
Duke Odo, the Great Duke of the city, stood on the highest point of the fortress, looking out toward the beach with fury burning in his chest.
He was a veteran commander who possessed a long history of combat.
He achieved a massive victory against the armies of Al-Andalus in the Battle of Toulouse but a few years ago, proving his courage and his strategic brilliance to the world.
He expected a traditional raid by disorganized northern thieves, but what he saw on the shoreline deeply disturbed his understanding of warfare...
Erik’s warriors have bound captive peasants and women who were out fishing in the shallow waters early this morning.
The poor commoners are tied together, pushed to their knees in the mud directly in front of the Norwegian army.
Just as he predicted. These northern savages have absolutely no honor!
The Duke thought to himself. He gripped the hilt of his long iron sword tightly.
Duke Odo shouted orders to his captains. He commanded the armored knights to gather in the main courtyard and prepare to mount their heavy warhorses.
He ordered the foot soldiers to take their positions on the stone walls with their bows and iron arrows.
He intended to lead a massive cavalry charge out of the gates, break the Viking lines, and execute every single invader who dared to step onto French soil.
While the French forces scrambled to organize their defense, Erik stood proudly on the beach. He looked at the bound captives crying in the mud and felt absolutely nothing.
He knew that forcing the French knights to ride down their own people would cause hesitation, and hesitation meant death...
"Prepare the heavy field cannons!" Erik shouted, pointing his arm toward the high stone walls of Calais.
"Load the solid iron balls, and point the iron tubes directly at the main gate!"
Harald Hardrada and Kevang immediately directed the soldiers to maneuver the massive iron machines into the proper positions. The men pushed hard against the round wheels, placing the cannons exactly where Ragnar had instructed them in the tactical manual.
Erik watched with thrilling excitement. He knew that the French knights were preparing to charge out of the city. He intended to wait until the gates opened, and then he would unleash the thunderous power of the black powder.
Duke Odo stood in the main courtyard of Calais, surrounded by hundreds of armored knights. The knights sat on their large warhorses, holding their long lances tightly. The horses snorted and stamped their hooves on the stone, sensing the aggressive energy of the men.
"Open the gates!" Duke Odo shouted, "Ride down the northern savages! Show them the power of the French cavalry!"
The gates of Calais slowly swung open, revealing the mud of the beach and the distant lines of the Norwegian army. Duke Odo kicked his horse and charged forward, leading the massive wave of armored knights out of the city.
The ground shook under the weight of hundreds of galloping horses. The knights lowered their long lances, preparing to break the Viking shield wall and slaughter the invaders.
Erik stood near the heavy field cannons, watching the French cavalry charge with excitement.
"Wait for my command!" Erik shouted to the soldiers operating the cannons.
"Let them get closer!"
The French knights closed the distance rapidly. They galloped past the bound captives, ignoring the screams of the peasants as their horses trampled the mud.
Duke Odo focused entirely on the line of long steel Pikes, preparing to smash his lance into the chest of the closest Viking warrior.
"Fire the cannons!" Erik roared.
The soldiers touched the burning wicks to the small ignition holes on the heavy iron tubes. A split second later, the beach exploded with the sound of pure thunder.
Massive clouds of white smoke erupted from the front of the cannons. The concussive force of the blast shook the ground and deafened the men standing nearby!
The solid iron balls flew across the short distance with terrifying speed. They completely obliterated everything in their path!
The iron projectiles smashed through the shields, tore through the linked iron chainmail, and shattered the bones of the knights and their mounts.
The front line of the French cavalry charge was instantly destroyed in a storm of blood, metal, and flying dirt.
Duke Odo’s horse screamed and collapsed as an iron ball smashed into the ground nearby, throwing the great warlord into the mud.
The surviving knights behind him tried to stop their horses, terrified by the deafening noise and the sudden destruction of their comrades.
"Now!" Erik shouted, drawing his own iron sword. "Move the Pikes forward! Do not let them retreat!"
The Viking foot soldiers holding the fifteen-foot steel Pikes marched forward, stepping over the broken bodies of the French knights. They thrust the sharp steel tips into the cavalry, stabbing the horses and the men before the knights could even swing their swords.
The men holding the crossbows fired volley after volley of heavy iron bolts over the heads of the spearmen, pinning the remaining French forces against the walls of their own city.
Duke Odo struggled to stand up in the mud, his heavy armor pulling him down. He looked at the smoking iron tubes and the disciplined line of advancing spearmen, and his mind simply could not comprehend what had just happened...
Seeing their fallen liege sprawled on the earth, the veteran knights who formed the Duke’s inner circle spurred their steeds forward with incredible speed.
They had spent their entire lives learning how to control heavy warhorses in the middle of chaotic battles. They ignored the terrifying noise of the explosive weapons and rode directly into the white smoke.
Without stopping their horses, they reached down with their arms, plucking him from the mud and retreating instantly into the safety of their remaining cavalry formation.
The Duke had charged out of the open gates with a thousand heavily armored knights. He had expected to crush the northern invaders with a single, glorious strike of iron swords and lances.
Now, as his sworn men-at-arms carried his bruised and bleeding body back toward the city, the Duke’s mind struggled to make sense of the silence that followed the thunder.
He knew that five thousand souls remained within the city walls, ready to defend their homes from the Viking army. However, the Duke also knew the reality, numbers meant nothing now...