sbdcsierra Chapter 390: The Southern Gates
Chapter 390: The Southern Gates
"Huh? Tonight?!"
King Rudolf I completely lost his royal composure, his voice cracking.
"Yes, your Grace~" Hakon chuckled, leaning against the crate of steel plows.
He didn’t look worried in the slightest. "Emperor Louis is a highly ambitious man, but he is not a patient one. He sent an ultimatum, and he expects an answer right now."
After hearing such words, Rudolf felt a boiling surge of anger entirely wash over him. He wanted to strangle the Norseman!
"You knew this?!" Rudolf roared, throwing his hands in the air. "You stood here for half an hour arguing with me over farming tools and textile mills while a Frankish army is marching on my capital?!"
"I had to make sure you were committed to the Iron Kingdom first!" Hakon argued. "Besides, it is not the entire million-man army. It is just a highly elite vanguard force. My scouts spotted them crossing the southern valley just before we sailed into your port. I would estimate there are nearly 4,000 knights."
Rudolf blinked, "Only four thousand?" Rudolf asked, his brow furrowing in deep confusion. "If the Emperor just formed a massive alliance with Bohemia and the Magyars, why in the hell would he only send four thousand men to enforce a royal ultimatum?"
Hakon reached into his gray coat, pulling out a small iron flask and taking a quick sip of warm ale.
"Because he is terrified of his other borders, Rudolf," Hakon explained, wiping his mouth. "He knows the Byzantine Navy is coming from the west, and the Abbasid Caliphate is stirring in the east. He cannot afford to move his army just to intimidate you. He needs his main forces to defend his borders from the real superpowers. So... he sent 4,000 elite knights to kick your front door in."
"Damn!!" Rudolf hissed, dragging a dirty hand down his face.
Even so, the situation was brilliant for Burgundy. The Frankish vanguard was marching here to bully a medieval king who fought with swords and arrows.
They didn’t know that Rudolf had just allied with the Iron Kingdom...
They had no idea that forty modern warships packed with heavy artillery were sitting in the Burgundian river!
However, a trap was useless if the teeth weren’t set.
Rudolf spun around, he looked at Bernard, the captain of his guard, who was staring at the Viking ships with his mouth open.
"Bernard!" Rudolf barked, "I want every single available draft horse in the lower city brought to these docks right now! Send a runner to the castle and tell the garrison to lock the southern gates!"
"Y-yes, my King!" Bernard stammered, pulling his sword and sprinting up the muddy bank to shout orders at his men.
Rudolf turned back to Hakon, "You said your men would unbolt the cannons, start unbolting them. We have less than an hour before the sun sets, and I refuse to fight 4,000 Frankish knights in the dark without those guns on my walls."
"You heard the King!" Hakon roared, turning toward the forty iron ships docked along the pier.
His booming voice echoed across the water. "Get the cranes moving! Unbolt the primary deck cannons! We are moving the armory up the hill!"
The elite Viking warriors and engineers poured out of the iron ships.
Thick steel chains rattled as the cranes on the decks swung into position.
With groaning shrieks of bending metal, the incredibly heavy steel shore cannons were slowly lifted directly from their iron mounts and lowered onto the pier.
"Gods, they are massive," Rudolf whispered.
"We need the horses!" one of the Viking engineers yelled, struggling to wrap hemp ropes around the iron chassis of the gun. "We cannot drag these up the cobblestone hill by ourselves!"
"I will handle the horses!"
Rudolf turned his head in surprise.
Prince Conrad had climbed down from his warhorse.
"Tie the ropes to the yokes!" Conrad ordered, "Use the draft chains! We pull them three at a time!"
"Push!" Hakon roared.
The giant Viking warlord threw his shoulder against the back of the iron cannon. His muscles bulged against his coat, straining with an impossible, almost terrifying amount of raw strength.
Beside him, dozens of Burgundian knights in heavy chainmail and Viking riflemen ignored their cultural differences, pushing the massive gun together.
Slowly, agonizingly, the cannons were dragged through the mud, up the steep cobblestone streets, and directly into the fortress of the Burgundian capital.
Finally, as the sun vanished below the horizon, plunging the green valleys into a deep darkness, the last cannon was pushed into place.
Rudolf collapsed against the stone of the battlements, gasping for air.
Next to him, Hakon wiped a layer of grease from his forehead, looking down over the stone parapet.
Ten massive, modern steel cannons were now mounted along the southern wall of the Burgundian fortress!
The long barrels poked through the stone gaps, aiming out over the sprawling, open fields leading to the main gate.
"We did it!" Conrad panted, resting his hands on his knees as he stood behind his father.
"Load the guns," Hakon ordered quietly, dropping his playful tone.
The Viking engineers quickly stepped forward.
They poured the bags of explosive black powder down the barrels.
But instead of loading single, solid iron cannonballs, they loaded tightly packed canvas bags filled with hundreds of small iron chunks.
"Grapeshot," Hakon explained, seeing Rudolf’s completely confused look. "If 4,000 knights charge your gates, a solid ball will only kill four or five of them. But a bag of grapeshot? When the powder detonates, it will shred an entire cavalry line in a single second."
After hearing such words, Rudolf entirely felt a cold shiver run down his spine.
Suddenly, Bernard came sprinting across the battlements.
"My King!" Bernard whispered frantically, pointing his sword out toward the dark horizon. "Look!"
Rudolf turned around and gripped the wall.
Emerging from the autumn mist in the distance were tiny, flickering dots of orange light. Dozens of them... then hundreds.
It was the Frankish vanguard... the absolute elite knights.
They slowly marched up to the edge of the clearing, stopping just out of bow-range from the towering walls of the Burgundian capital.
From the center of the cavalry line, a single Frankish commander rode forward on a beautiful white warhorse.
He was covered in incredibly expensive steel plate armor. He held a flag bearing the royal crest of Francia.
"King Rudolf of Burgundy!" the Frankish commander roared, his arrogant voice carrying easily over the quiet fields.
"We bring the final terms of Emperor! Open your gates!
Swear your loyalty to the Frankish Empire, or we will burn your city to ash and slaughter every single man, woman, and child inside!"
The Frankish commander drew his broadsword, pointing it at the walls.
"You have one minute to comply!" the commander screamed.
On the battlements, hidden from the flickering torchlight, King Rudolf stood entirely still.
Rudolf slowly looked back down at the arrogant Frankish knight sitting on his horse.