Chapter 294: Blueprints (2)
And so, for three complete days, Ragnar remained lying on his bed.
He felt completely comfortable remaining in the room because the environment outside was currently entirely hostile to human activity. A massive winter storm had arrived from the northern seas, dropping thick sheets of solid ice onto the streets.
The ice was falling so heavily from the grey sky that it was making them unable to even see the large gates of the city from the central palace. The guards stationed on the walls were forced to huddle near small fires to prevent their iron chainmail from freezing directly to their skin.
Beside him on the bed lay Gyda. She had spent the last three days resting alongside him.
"Ragnar, the local healer visited me yesterday to check my condition," Gyda said, looking directly at her husband.
"After exactly six months, our son will be born."
Ragnar reached his hand across the bed, gently touched her long hair, and leaned his body forward to kiss her head.
He stood up from the bed and dressed himself in thick leather trousers, heavy leather boots, and his standard shirt of linked iron chainmail.
The door was pushed open with great speed. Bjorn walked rapidly into the room.
"Ragnar, you must stop what you are doing and come outside immediately!" Bjorn announced loudly, standing near the door and waving his hand in the air.
"What is the problem, Bjorn?" Ragnar asked.
"It is Louis. He finally finished the project you gave him. He made the first musket, and he wants the two of us to go to the training field right now!"
"I saw the tool he built, Ragnar, and it looks completely useless for close combat," Bjorn stated. "It is too awkward to swing at an enemy’s head. I do not understand why Louis is acting so proud of this simple iron tube."
"You will understand its true purpose when we reach the training field." Ragnar said, smiling as he walked past the general and exited the room.
And so, the two men walked through the long hallways of the central building and pushed open the doors leading to the outside environment.
They passed several groups of guards who were shivering in the cold, holding their long spears as they patrolled the perimeter.
After a long walk through the blinding ice storm, they finally arrived at the large dirt field used for infantry training. Standing at the center of the field was Louis the Stammerer.
He had ordered the local workers to place a thick wooden target at the far end of the dirt field, estimating a distance of over one hundred paces away from his current standing position.
"It was an incredibly difficult manufacturing process, Ragnar," Louis explained, shivering slightly in the cold wind.
"We had to wrap the hot iron around a solid metal rod and hammer the edges together perfectly to create a seamless tube. If the iron barrel contains even a single weak point, the explosive force of the black powder will break the metal and kill the man holding the weapon."
Ragnar reached out and took the heavy musket from Louis’s hands.
"Watch my hands very closely, Bjorn," Ragnar instructed, pulling a small leather pouch of black powder from his belt.
"First, I must pour a highly precise measurement of this chemical powder directly down the front opening of the long iron tube. Next, I place this small, round lead ball into the tube. Then, I use this long wooden stick to push the lead ball all the way down to the bottom, packing the powder tightly."
After packing the barrel, he lifted a small iron cover near the back of the weapon.
"Finally, I pour a tiny amount of the black powder into this small metal pan on the outside of the barrel," Ragnar continued.
"When I pull the small iron lever underneath the wooden handle, a piece of hard flint stone will strike a piece of steel. The friction will create a small spark. The spark will fall into the pan, igniting the powder. The fire will travel through a tiny hole in the side of the iron tube and ignite the main charge inside. The resulting chemical explosion will generate massive expanding gas, which will push the lead ball out of the barrel in a perfectly straight line."
After securing the powder and the projectile, Ragnar lifted the heavy musket.
He pointed the long iron barrel directly at the thick wooden target standing far away in the falling ice. He closed his left eye to align his vision along the top of the metal tube.
He pulled the small iron lever with his index finger.
A loud explosion instantly erupted from the weapon. A massive cloud of thick white smoke rapidly expanded from the front of the iron barrel, accompanied by a bright flash of fire.
The intense force of the blast pushed the heavy musket backward, hitting Ragnar’s shoulder.
While the white smoke slowly drifted away in the cold wind, Bjorn opened his eyes as wide as possible. He looked past the dissipating smoke and stared at the far end of the dirt field.
The thick wooden target, which was constructed from multiple layers of hard wood designed to stop the sharp edge of an iron sword, now possessed a large, splintered hole directly in its exact center.
The round lead ball had traveled the massive distance instantly, moving far too fast for the human eye to track, and had punched entirely through the solid wooden barrier!
"This is completely impossible!" Bjorn shouted loudly. He uncrossed his arms and took a step forward.
"If that wooden target were a French knight wearing full iron chainmail, the lead ball would have torn directly through his chest!"
"That is the exact reality of this invention!" Ragnar replied, lowering the smoking iron tube and looking at Bjorn.
"When we manufacture thousands of these muskets and distribute them to our foot soldiers, we will rewrite the rules of power, courage, and honor!"