Five casualties in the woods, twenty killed.
Shrike made no comment on this barely acceptable ratio. "How are the enemy equipped? Are they armoured?"
"The leader is armoured, the others are armed with round shields and short swords. According to the prisoners, we expect to reach Lenak before sunset."
"Understood." Shrike signalled for the messenger to return to company headquarters and ordered the men to close the distance.
At four o'clock in the afternoon they crested the hillside and dimly saw the Pict settlement and nearby farmland in the distance.
"About a hundred farms, five hundred inhabitants."
Having estimated the number of men, Shrike ordered a halt for rest. Suddenly, from the side and in front, they heard the crunch of dry branches underfoot. He was about to raise his hand to warn them when dozens of Picts, brandishing daggers, burst from the bushes and rushed straight towards the open space where the battalion headquarters were located.
Beep!
In seconds, horns, flutes and whistles were blaring in the chaotic noise. Enemy troops were attacking from all sides. Only the two closest chariot companies responded quickly, rushing to the aid of the battalion headquarters.
"Open fire!"
When given the command, the thirty archers directly below the battalion headquarters killed the Picts in the foreground, but were unable to stop their advance. As the distance between the two sides closed, the archers' view was severely limited, and they were forced to stop firing.
"Oooh!"
The Picts rushed forward, making strange cries. The Viking shield-bearers took the first blows, scattering splinters.
The next moment, two specially made pitchforks flew diagonally from the cracks in their shields, their intricate iron spikes entangling short swords, forcing the four Picts back several paces. The spearmen took the opportunity to strike, the muffled clatter of spearheads mingling with the Pictish cries. Frightened partridges fluttered through the treetops, their bright feathers scattering like petals.
After watching for a moment and seeing that his side was gaining the upper hand, Shrike secretly admired:
"Of course, the Duke's formation is well suited for small skirmishes. By coordinating the actions of the Mandarin formation, we often achieve a local numerical advantage over a smaller force. The enemy may block one spear, but not a second or third."
Seeing the disgruntled looks of the indigo raiders, Shrike felt a great sense of relief and asked the translator to convey: "
This is a new tactic, lads. We call for your immediate surrender. We are only after the lord and his cronies."
The battle lasted less than five minutes. The Picts fled in panic. Shrike leaned against a tree trunk, waiting for the troops to tally up their gains.
Thanks to the relatively tight formation, the exchange rate was very favorable: forty killed, fifteen captured, three of his men killed and six wounded.
After a half-hour's rest, the troops continued their advance, arriving at Lenark by nightfall.
After two battles, the local lord's forces were destroyed, and he and a dozen of his men remained at the gates. Shrike rallied his men and launched an assault, easily capturing the settlement.
After spending the day taking stock of the population and cultivated lands, Shrike left a force of fifty men to garrison Lenark before escorting the prisoners north.
Upon learning of the Mandarin Company's victory in the first battle, Whig was greatly pleased, and ordered the officials to award the Highlanders ten barrels of beer as a reward for their steadfast return.
Looking at the thin white foam on the surface of his glass, Shrike took a long sip, then paused before asking, "Sir, what shall we take next?"
"Take your time. The siege equipment in Glasgow is ready, and the general offensive is about to begin. Taking this settlement will give our army control of the central lowlands, which will allow us to achieve the first phase of our strategic objectives. From here, we will begin the long phase of suppressing the bandits."
Vig unfolded the map, pointed with his pen at the patch of land where Reynark lay, and asked:
"What do you think of this place?"
As the saying goes, "birds of a feather flock together." Under the influence of his master, whenever Shrike arrived in a particular region, he subconsciously observed the local production conditions and calculated the potential profit.
Based on his impressions, he replied casually: "I think it's all right. There are about two thousand acres of scattered arable land,
plus some slope suitable for pasture. There is a stream just beyond the settlement, and after cutting down the timber can be floated downstream and sold."
Hearing this, Vig noted a parcel of land in Reinach: "100 yards, 2000 acres," mounted his horse and rode toward Glasgow.
As Shrike watched the Duke walk away, he suddenly understood. Was there more to his question? Was the Duke planning to grant Reinach to himself?
Damn it!
I should never have let the soldiers go. This is a big problem. After what those fools did, the locals will probably hate me.
With a gleam in his eye, Shrike grabbed a packhorse and chased after the Duke. "My Lord, there has been a slight misunderstanding between me and the locals. Please do not send me there..."
Two days later, in Glasgow.
Banners fluttered, spears and pikes burned like a forest. Four thousand warriors were drawn up in the open space to the east of the city, awaiting the final orders of their commander.
Vig, on a pale horse, made no attempt to persuade them to surrender, but waved his left hand, signaling the beginning of a general assault.
In the northeastern hills, Stein watched the battle with more than three hundred raiders, who had originally intended to join the siege and take more loot. However, Vig dismissed young Karami, warning him to get out of the way and not interfere with his work.
Given the relative strength of the parties, Stein wisely gave in, quietly watching the battle from the hills, studying the various weapons:
small trebuchets, towers, wagons with shields, ladders, battering rams.
With their help, the Vikings literally broke through the city walls in an hour during lunch and engaged the defenders in a fierce battle. Having
an overwhelming superiority in numbers and weapons, they captured the eastern gate and let the huge army through.
Seeing all this, the young man behind Stein asked with a smile: "Boss, Glasgow was taken for nothing?"
Since the formation of the Union of the Islands, the capture of Glasgow had been their main goal. They tried night raids and disguised caravans, but nothing worked. Now that the city was in foreign hands, they felt not only indignation, but also fear.
When the walls were decorated with Viking banners, one of the leaders sighed and led about thirty of his warriors west.
The rest followed him, not daring to challenge the Viking army.
Having captured Glasgow, the shamans and their students took inventory. Local produce was significantly inferior to the products of Wessex and West Frankia. The few valuable things - precious metals, wool and furs - were distributed among the soldiers, leaving Vig with only a few useless scrolls.
At the banquet, watching the joyful faces of the crowd, Vig did not spoil their mood. After a minute's pause, he raised his glass to thank everyone for their efforts. Under countless stares, he pulled out a scroll and slowly recited it.