Chapter 1520: Continue to Add Fuel to the War

The battlefield was in a mess, and the Frankish militia of Luxembourg suffered a lot of losses. They really defeated a Norman army. The faces of the surviving soldiers were filled with the joy of victory. As for the people who died in the battle, this was their fate.

The militiamen kicked and trampled corpses everywhere on the battlefield, dragging away those who could still scream.

Because of their faith, these militiamen had no reason to inflict wounds on their own wounded soldiers to end their suffering, but it was not good to let them linger on the battlefield until they died.

Soon, some wooden ox carts arrived, and the militiamen threw the wounded on board, and finally they were all transported to the gate of the monastery.

Priests will give final care to all the dying people, they will make their final confession in front of the priests, and then their souls will go to heaven...

The incident happened suddenly. Archbishop Hartgar believed that his side would win with absolute force and under the leadership of Count Jülichgau, who had fully recovered. He knelt down alone under the cross in the monastery and prayed silently, and finally received the good news of victory in the evening.

He was so excited that he was shaking all over. He looked up at the cross and crossed himself on his chest with emotion: "Lord, thank you for the victory you have given us. The barbarians have finally been punished."

The archbishop and the lower-level priests quickly welcomed the wounded soldiers brought back by oxcarts, and then began to face the corpses of the war dead.

Although he did not arrive at the battlefield in person, Hattaga could relate to how barbaric the fighting there was.

He has been involved in battlefields littered with corpses many times, and he has a strong mental resistance to the dead lying on the ground. However, this horrific scene is a severe test in life for many local priests in Luxembourg.

There is still work to be done! It must be them too!

The priests in black robes knelt down one after another, holding their own small sterling silver crosses, chanting Latin eulogies, and finally placed the cross on the lips of the deceased.

If it is a minor injury, it will basically heal on its own as long as you do not suffer from fever. If it is a serious injury, there is nothing the priests can do.

All they can do is give the dying comfort before death.

There were as many as 500 dead and dying wounded being transported back. There were also a group of wounded who were still able to move freely and were not included in the statistics. As for whether the lightly injured would die from wound infection in the future, they could only leave it to fate. Because the wounded soldiers did not have a clear sense of hygiene, as for who died and who lived, everything boiled down to God's will.

So many people died, but the victors still dragged back more than a hundred enemy corpses by various means.

Because the Danish army's line was eventually overwhelmed, Ragnar had no choice but to retreat in the face of the surging torrent to avoid the death of his entire army from exhaustion.

The still intact corpses of the enemy were hanged up in public by the victors to vent their anger. The militiamen chanted words such as "kill the bandits" and continued to stab them with their spearheads, until they finally turned into lumps and lumps of indescribable things. .

Such barbaric behavior was finally stopped by the archbishop.

The lower-level priest ordered the angry militiamen to stop, threatening: "You are righteous warriors, don't be like devils!"

Finally, the harshest words were spoken: "Beware of blood splattering on you and you will be cursed."

Calling the Normans devils inspired the militiamen to fight.

Hatgar also knew where all the Normans came from. Deep in his heart, he retained compassion and hoped to convert the Normans through peaceful means.

A small pony team rushed back to Luxembourg to win at sunset.

Commander Eberhard, who brought victory, was immediately cheered by the soldiers and civilians. He did not bother to greet the soldiers. In the field neatly piled with war dead, he found the archbishop who was personally doing hospice care.

He held the hilt of his sword and walked quickly.

"Papa, victory belongs to us."

"My child, you are a hero, and the Lord is with you." After some ceremonial polite words, Hatega paid great attention to the details of the war.

Hatgar quickly ended the work at hand and invited the earl to return to the monastery temporarily.

"How is your health? Are you able to fight with ease after just recovering?" He said and brought another bowl of holy oil.

"I appreciate your kindness. I have recovered and no longer need divine protection."

"It's better to drink it. After all, you are fighting against the barbaric Rus people, and I'm afraid that you will be cursed by their evil wizard again."

"That's fine."

After drinking the holy oil dripping with rose essential oil, there is still a faint floral fragrance on the lips and teeth. It is unknown whether it has any medicinal effect, but it does cover up Eberhardt's bad breath.

Eberhard had something important to explain, so he just found a wooden chair to sit down and reported a key piece of information to the archbishop without choosing a place - the enemy was not the Russians.

"Not a Rus? What kind of Norman is that?"

"It's the Danes. The captured guys were rebellious and had already obtained information before I executed them. The King of Denmark, who is said to have done all kinds of evil among pirates, also came. What we defeated was actually the Danish army."

"Danes? They actually also..." Hartega's eyes widened, with a look of disbelief on his face.

"That's right." Eberhard sighed: "I defeated the King of Denmark. But I... don't have the joy of victory."

"The new King of Denmark's infamy is already spreading. You defeated a great Satan."

"I just defeated him but didn't kill him. I clearly had a chance, but it's a pity that the guy ran away as fast as a hare." Eberhard clenched his fists. He was very unwilling to himself: "If my noble cavalry is still there, The entire invading Danish army will turn into rotten flesh under my iron hooves. The King of Denmark must die! What a pity..."

Khatga consoled him: "Next time, you will have a chance. Even if you just led the militia, you still won."

"The price to pay for this victory was too high."

"It is a victory after all. The war will continue, and we must regain Trier, which was stolen from us."

The archbishop's eyes were piercing. Didn't he notice the casualties on his side? Eberhardt composed himself: "If you insist on fighting, even if we win, we will suffer extremely cruel losses. Just defeating a large group of Danish troops will cause such losses. If we really fight a decisive battle with the Russians... let's talk about it. , I think the whole gauntlet of King Rus is a lie. The gauntlet never said that there were actually Danes joining.”

"Maybe the Ross people don't know about this either." Hatega shook his head regretfully: "As far as I know, the Norman world is divided into three major factions. Ross has merged with Sweden, and their strength has replaced The most barbaric Denmark ever. If I had not received the letter from the Archbishop of the North, I would not have understood all this."

When Hattega thought about this, he felt that the situation was even more strange: "Maybe we have made some mistakes. The Northern Archbishop Eskil said that there are already some righteous believers among the Rus' people, and they worship God. The king of Rus' contrary to the advice of the Danish nobles There is no barbaric persecution against these people. Maybe we can have a good chat with the Rus nobles. I don’t believe that a person who can write letters in Latin is good at lying, rude and unable to communicate."

"Have you... changed your attitude?" Eberhard was quite surprised.

"We can negotiate appropriately, but...the basis of the negotiation is to severely damage them on the battlefield and win favorable conditions for us." Hartega thought of something, and he looked at Eberhart's face with vigour: "We have sufficient With the manpower advantage, as long as we continue to recruit militiamen, we can crush the enemy with sheer force. As long as all the Normans choose to garrison in one place, we don't have to chase the tail of their ships. Our chance of victory is here."

The level of Frankish infantry has always been very poor, and an entire tribe can rise into a large empire, almost relying on cavalry. This civil war has officially begun in 838. The nobles have been fighting on and off and have fought countless battles. The nobles have consumed each other's strength. After the well-equipped heavy cavalry has exhausted each other, the newly formed cavalry has become nothing more than a mob.

In the end, the civil war among the nobles continued, and the warring parties invested too much, and no one could afford to lose under such huge sunk costs.

The war forced each other into poverty, and melees between infantrymen became the norm again.

The art of war of the Franks is slipping back to four hundred years ago.

Under such a situation, Eberhard could only rely on massive armed militia to continue the war.

However, in desperation, the Luxembourg army encountered some kind of turning point.

The enemy fled but left many longships behind. The narrow Alzette River prevented the ships from quickly evacuating and were captured intact.

This was what surprised Hatega the most. "The longship that the Normans are most proud of is actually in our hands?! Without the ship, they can only stick to one place."

Eberhard thought further: "Papa, since the enemy claims to be stationed in Trier. I have captured as many as twenty long ships. In my opinion, each ship can transport fifty people or more. Our army Our attack plan still needs to be implemented, and with the help of these ships, our attack may be smoother."

"This is a good sign. Where is the ship now?"

"The battlefields still in the north are all crowded in the river."

Hatgar was overjoyed when he heard this: "Bring back the spoils quickly and let everyone see our victory."

So on the next day, the long boats were transported to the Luxembourg camp by ropes pulled by the militiamen.

The camp in the valley was built along the river. Twenty empty longships were now anchored here. For the first time, Hartgar directly stood on the nightmare-like longship. Regarding the attack on Liege Fortress and his own cathedral, The terrifying memory of this incident was much relieved at this moment.

There was also an abstract raven flag hanging from the mast, and it bothered him just to look at it.

"Is it the coat of arms that symbolizes barbarians? It must be replaced by a cross flag."

A large positive cross was painted on the white cloth with black charcoal, just to replace all the raven flags.

The folded flag was considered to have evil power and was burned with fire.

Hatjia still needs an armed militia with a strength of ten thousand people to see the victory and capture, and hopes that these spoils will inspire more people to join the army - as long as the refugee villagers feel that they have a great chance of winning, people will calculate on their own and get the spoils. If desire outweighs the fear of death, more militiamen can appear.

There were armed female pirates among the Normans, and such barbaric behavior was the most despised by the priests. Hartega will definitely not recruit female soldiers in Luxembourg. However, the total population that has poured in in a short period of time is rushing to 50,000 people. The intuitive feeling is that the population here is already too much.

This is what Hatega calls a winning chance.

By today's standards, south of Trier was the densely populated area of ​​Frankfurt. The source of all tragedies was the Normans. A large number of villages in remote areas were afraid that they would be alone and attacked by the Normans, so they collectively moved to Luxembourg.

There were very few nobles among the refugees, because a large number of knights loyal to Count Metz had already led their retinues to the war, leaving the people in the territory behind. The nobles in the civil war did not dare to destroy the villages due to various restrictions, but the Rus attacked everything indiscriminately.

When the villages that lacked the protection of the nobles learned that there was a large garrison in the nearby Luxembourg Valley, they continued to pour in and contributed more militiamen to Hatega.

The long boats moored in the river next to the military camp were very intimidating, and the newly arrived people were afraid of them, but when they saw the cross flags flying on those masts, their fear quickly turned into confidence.

Hatega did not regret the tragic result of blocking the battle, which resulted in 800 casualties (some of the lightly wounded eventually died of wound infection), and the recruitment process continued under the captured longship.

Eberhard was dumbfounded by this situation and had to sigh with emotion. After all, the Archbishop of Liege was a royal advisor and he was really capable of rectifying the people's hearts. He actually quickly summoned more militiamen!

Because the Earl of Lisigao was a warrior, all the management of the people was left to the lower nobles and priests. In the end, he still managed all the people's livelihood issues.

Hatgar knows nothing about fighting. As a royal advisor and one of the Twelve Paladins, he can act in the name of Emperor Lothair completely legally. He managed logistics for the Frankish army, whose strength was still swelled by the influx of refugees, and completely transferred command to Eberhard, Count of Jülichgau.

The cooperation between the two sides is extremely harmonious, and their morale is still rising.

At this point, it was a foregone conclusion that the battle would continue. Facing the militiamen who were very optimistic about the prospects, Eberhard would not disclose his worries to anyone. He knew that these happy warriors would die on a large scale in the fierce battle with the Russians, and only their sacrifice could gain a chance for victory.

Easter is just around the corner, and even snowfall cannot stop the army from advancing. By then, the Frankish army in Luxembourg will come out in full force to fight the Russians.

On the other hand, the fleeing Ragnar lost more than half of his longships.

He prepared a total of thirty-five boats, and the more than nine hundred people who had withdrawn crowded into a mere fifteen boats and floated downstream. The long boat became extremely bloated, and the keel almost touched the river bed. If the river bottom was not full of mud, the keel could rush through, otherwise it would be damned stranded.

Ragnar was like a defeated rooster. While he was dejected, he also hoped that he would be vengeful and kill the enemies over there next time.

In the evening, they spent the night in a wooded area by the river.

The people who retreated complained to each other, and a large number of injured people helped each other deal with their wounds.

Bonfires were lit one after another, and the grassland was filled with people.

Suddenly the ground seemed to vibrate, and a black shadow came quickly from a distance.

"It's an enemy attack!" The nervous man burst out, and soon panic spread throughout the army.

Everything was dim under the setting sun. Ragnar noticed that the shadows were clearly coming from the lower reaches of the river. He patted himself and stood up, so that the nervous warriors who had already formed a formation did not have to fear.

"Everyone, sit down, those are the Russians."

In a moment, Fisk led the Ross cavalry to attack. Regarding the setback in the Danish army's raid, this matter had been noticed from a distance by the scout cavalry sent out.

If there was no order from King Rus, he could have rushed forward with more than a thousand cavalry to overturn the situation. He did not dare to do it due to the king's order. Besides, it was not necessary for the Russian army to take risks for the Danes' own opinions.

The Russians did deliberately watch the Danish army's retreat from a distance. Regarding this matter, Commander Fisk claimed that he was not qualified to make fun of it. He also ordered the entire army: "It is forbidden to say sarcastic words to the Danes, as if we have nothing to do with their defeat." Known.”

This is what he demands of himself.

Now that the Ross army has arrived, all dangers are gone.

Anyway, this is the third large-scale escape in this life. Each time, they were defeated by the Frankish forces and fled.

After calming down, Ragnar accepted the situation. Under the setting sun, he noticed the dismounted man's bald head after taking off his hat.

"Are they the Fisk brothers?" Ragnar asked in a distant voice.

"It's me." Fisk shouted deliberately: "Aren't you going to attack the Franks over there? Why haven't you taken action yet?" He asked knowingly and pretended not to know.

Ragnar patted his head: "Hey! Don't mention it. Brother, my offensive has suffered setbacks."

"What? Have you already fought a battle? You... feel like your ship is missing a lot. Could it be..."

Fisk stopped immediately. He actually knew the truth, and now he was afraid that he would let it slip. He pretended that he had just arrived.

This is a general under King Ross and a distant brother of King Ross. Sometimes Ragna is envious of this bald guy - he has been winning battles with King Ross for more than ten years.

As for Fisk, Ragnar had no intention of covering up his defeat. He had to make up for it out of concern for face: "That Gilbert is lying. There are not 5,000 people in Luxembourg at all. Maybe there are 10,000 or 20,000 people there. Man, every warrior is extremely crazy about fighting, and my shield wall was actually destroyed by these guys without their lives."

"So many enemies?" Fisk's surprise now was genuine. He had learned from his scouts that there were indeed many enemy militiamen. How many were there? Scouts watching from a distance could not give a quantitative answer.

"An unspeakable number! What surprises me most is that the Franks are out of character. Shouldn't they collapse at the first touch? They are as crazy as us Danes. We have tried our best to kill many of them, but they have no fear at all."

It was unimaginable that such words could come from the mouth of a veteran warrior, and Fisk could see that Ragnar's high opinion of his enemy was genuine. "If so, their cavalry went crazy and tore apart our Ross army. If the enemy had more troops at that time, a fierce battle would be inevitable. I understand you somewhat, Brother Ragnar. It seems that all of us They all underestimated their strength."

"The war will continue. I want to return to the Trier camp as soon as possible. I want to have a good talk with the Rurik brothers. By the way, why are you here with the cavalry now?" Ragnar asked suddenly.

Fisk opened his mouth and came: "I thought you had won a big victory. I took the cavalry to destroy the remaining enemies. To be honest, we also wanted to get some trophies. It seems that we are late. I am sorry for not helping you..."

"Hey, I don't need your help. This is my promise to Rurik." Ragnar shook his head regretfully. He was just being stubborn now. During the day, if the Danish army under siege suddenly got He would be moved to tears by the reinforcements of more than a thousand Ross cavalry.

"What's next? Back to camp?"

"Go back. I will return tomorrow morning. Since the enemy has too many troops, my Danish army will definitely fight with you." Ragnar said solemnly, and also announced: "Brother Rurik knows better about large-scale melees. I am willing to obey his command.”