The two armies met in the canyon. There was a brief silence and a tense atmosphere.
Nanding and Tyrrell sent a small number of riders to ride their mounts and quickly traveled through the open space, trying to find the opponent's weaknesses.
Since the beginning of the war, this group of Scottish old ladies has been difficult to deal with. If they can't be defeated, they will retreat to the mountains and appear elusive. Once their own troops are disbanded, they will reappear, no different from the Vikings.
Tyrell pulled the reins, raised his hand to half height, and told the knights beside him, "Let your men hold on to their shields and spears, think of them as men's...change them to women's...don't let me go even if you die!"
For more than two months, Tyrrell gradually got used to this kind of life.
There were glorious new scars on his arms.
He always gave orders majestically, then picked up his riding crop and hid behind to give orders.
After the news spread that he often found beautiful young people to warm his bed, he was ridiculed by his enemies for having long hair.
"Valkyrie".
"Get ready!" Nan Ding next to him took a deep breath, and then!
"Dry!"
tread!
Unable to tell which side the sound was louder, both sides rushed towards their opponents.
There are many mountains and forests in Scotland, and the camp is equipped with many simple crossbowmen.
This is a weapon passed down from the Roman era. After Scotland learned it, when they entered the mountains and forests, they improved this weapon and made a simple wooden version of the crossbow.
Although this simple crossbow is easy to destroy and not very powerful, it is very convenient to make and does not take too much time to get started.
On Nanding's side, most of the people who use long-range weapons are archers.
The two sides were mixed together. Most of the Scottish mountaineers used short axes and short spears. Their equipment was inferior to that of the White Eagle, but their courage was not lost at all.
Having been in contact with (harassed) the Vikings for a long time, their attack methods even resembled those of the Vikings.
The forty riders sent by Orangang to support Nanding, under the command of Ossa and Henry, quickly broke through a line of defense with their war spears, but the Scots formation quickly returned to the defense.
New mountain infantry will be added soon.
During the battle, these mountain men called out to each other.
Although they are only separated by a mountain from their own territory of Edinburgh, Tyrell doesn't understand this kind of "bird language".
"Damn it! You shout for me too!"
Tyrell turned his head and asked the servant knight to wave the battle flag.
See who has the loudest voice.
The mountain infantry saw that the south (Northumbria) was coming to support again this time, and began to switch to a new attack array. However, Henry's offensive was very fierce. He cooperated with Nanding to let Nanding's heavy infantry break through first, and then Harvesting from behind yourself works great.
"Take back our territory!"
Even if a mountain infantryman was hit in the neck by a sword, he would press the wound and try to remain standing.
Although he collapsed immediately, he still grabbed the dirt on the ground and tried to get up again.
"Woo-"
It’s another horn blowing, and more Scots are about to join.
A new noble dynasty united by various tribes.
The nobles who participated in the war wanted to establish meritorious service in order to gain a greater say.
The situation is getting more and more chaotic. This is a war between fellow believers, with no great justice or glory.
The pain of the weapon hitting his body is obvious.
The archers on Nanding's side even had a group effect and were completely unable to shoot accurately.
"Don't kill me, let me go!"
"Hold!"
The wild boar Osa mercilessly chopped down a mountain man who begged him for mercy.
But then his horse was knocked down by a hatchet, one of its legs was cut off, and he fell to the right. The weight of the armor made him lose direction for a moment, and his face hit the ground, causing a bloody wound.
More and more war horses fell down, roaring in pain, and the suffocating fishy smell spread to everyone's nostrils.
"let me!"
Tyrell used his not very strong body to draw his long bow and pointed it at a heavily armored noble of the enemy.
She was a stout woman who led others to harass her several times.
"Bitch, go to hell!"
When his fingers were released, the arrow flew out and traced a trajectory.
But hit an unrelated person.
Then he was also targeted by a crossbow. A mountain crossbowman rushed in front of him and shot an arrow that missed, then threw the crossbow at him and tried to pull Tyrell off his horse.
"!"
Tyrrell held the reins tightly and tried to control the horse, but his enemy pulled him down with a backhand.
Turns out falling off a horse really fucking hurts!
After the armor hit the ground, his eyes hurt, and he heard jeers and other noises.
He felt like his arms and legs were broken, and his heart was about to fall out of his body...
He fainted, and when he woke up he was not dead, but had become a prisoner...
"Where is this?" he asked breathlessly.
The Scotsman who was guarding him went to report it, and then he and other prisoners were pulled to a hall.
All the prisoners were forced to kneel.
"we lose?"
Tyrell turned to ask the knight next to him, who was drinking with him yesterday.
The man said, "Lord Kunsang later led a team over, fought off the enemy's support, and captured several of their nobles, who were discussing an exchange."
Tyrrell was going to laugh his ass off when he heard this.
Fortunately, this helps.
But the nobleman who captured him was obviously dissatisfied. He didn't know what the quarrel was about. After talking about it, he directly pulled out his sword and came to the group of prisoners.
Tyrell almost peed when the knife went down.
"waste!"
This sentence was not said in the mountain dialect. Tyrell understood it, so he could scold him and go to hell.
The kind of noble who picks up his sword and fights after being scolded is a fool.
Back in the south, I will still be the Sheriff who sleeps with whoever I want!
The Scottish nobles who wanted to fight again did not agree to the substitution negotiations, but the upper-class nobles wanted to negotiate, so they could only retaliate in this way.
Being tied up and having difficulty moving, Tyrell was so thirsty that he even asked for water, but in exchange, a female noble who had fought on the battlefield laughed at him, "You loser, you only deserve to drink from me..."
After hearing this, Tyrell couldn't bear it anymore, so he "psychologically" scolded the bitch.
At the same time, Oran personally came to the north of Edinburgh and set up a formation to discuss business with his northern neighbors.
"Eight hundred dead and injured."
This was the number after Olan's statistics, and it made his heart ache to see it.
His storehouse was never full, and he was being raided from south to north.
"What do those mountain barbarians say?" Oran asked after seeing Ulf coming back.
"They agreed, and after agreeing on a time, they sent someone to exchange hostages. At the same time, they asked us to give a reasonable answer to King Ella's previous marriage agreement to cut the land."
"Tell me to go down and prepare for war at any time to prevent night attacks."
"yes."
This time we are meeting the King of Scotland, who is also Malm's cousin. Since we have connections, we must make good use of them.
He called Nanding again and asked about the number of nobles who had been captured.
"Thanks a lot."
"Sir, it was my incompetence that allowed Sheriff Tirrell to be captured."
Nanding never talks about his hardships. Since becoming the deputy sheriff, he has become more reserved than before.
"During this period of time, you have been fighting with these mountain people. Have you discovered any means of victory?"
"We can't do anything about the area closer to the mountains. They can walk barefoot in the area where they grew up.
I caught their clan leader and asked about training methods. They attach great importance to military affairs.
If you are willing to take risks, anyone who dares to escape will be expelled from the clan.
Normal training is led by the leader of his own clan, with a team of one hundred people.
Big exercises are held every month to simulate battlefield conditions, and their combat experience is not inferior to that of the Vikings.
And they also have a small but very elite group of riders, and the pasture is in northwest Scotland..."
