After reading the parchment record of the attack, the Pictish ambassador still did not give in.
He argued with Vig for a long time and was forced to threaten: "My lord, knowing about your intention to attack, the Gaels, Picts and Angles, who had previously fled to the country, have united. Are you sure you want to resist this great coalition?"
Vig smiled carefree: "Yes, your military power will not surpass the Frankish. Six months later, I am sure you heard about the battle on the Seine. I can defeat the Frankish army of almost ten thousand and, naturally, cope with this hastily assembled coalition."
At this point, the ambassador gave up trying to fight for peace and quietly left Tineburg.
At that moment, the soldiers were still practicing martial arts in the open field. The envoy paused to watch, his mood growing darker.
"The Vikings are preparing for war while the Alliance is still struggling with the aftermath of past conflicts. I fear that if this continues, we will be completely destroyed."
In the shadow of war came the year 849 CE. As the temperature gradually rose, Vig concentrated on preparing his troops.
Before the Frankish campaign, he had 2,000 men under his command. After two wars in Frankish and Welsh territory, after taking into account the losses, only 600 men remained ready to fight.
With this core of 600 men, Wygh recruited 1,400 Viking militia from all over the country, bringing the total to 2,000. Three Welsh tribes were to provide 500 men as highland infantry.
Meanwhile, knights from all over the south were also arriving in droves. By mid-April, when the army prepared to march, a total of 200 skilled cavalry had been assembled, and their levies alone were worth 600 pounds of silver.
"Two thousand spearmen, five hundred Welshmen, two hundred cavalry, and more than two thousand Norwegian raiders were still arriving."
He climbed to the roof of the main building and looked out over the great tents in the open space outside Tyne Town. He decided that five thousand men were more than enough to deal with the Picto-Gaelic alliance in the north, and there was no point in wasting time.
Having made his decision, Vig called together the high command and announced that the northern expedition would begin in two days. Having assigned tasks, he, accompanied by shield bearers, headed to the camp north of the city to meet the recently arrived knights and bandit leaders.
"Wait, who are you?"
Vig froze, looking at the knight in chainmail and a pointed helmet, who for a moment became unrecognizable.
"My lord, my name is Torga. I was once a knight of Gunnar and fought in the Battle of the Seine." The man removed his helmet, revealing a shock of short, light-blond hair, and introduced the lord to the twelve companions standing behind him. "
We are all Gunnar's subordinates. Last year he insisted on converting to Catholicism. Over four hundred people, including myself, were unhappy with this and escorted the last batch of ransom money back to Londinium.
After that, I went to the newly created College of Heraldry of His Majesty and renounced my oath of allegiance to Gunnar. Initially, I planned to join His Majesty's palace guard, but unfortunately I have an old grudge against Oleg "Whitehead", so I decided to go north to take part in this war."
After listening to Thorga's story, Vig was in no hurry to recruit him, only politely encouraging him and encouraging him to fight bravely.
The next two days in the camp were frantic: fish, meat and beer were in abundance, and everyone enjoyed them to the fullest.
On 20 April the army formally set out, moving north along the coast, supplied by transport ships. After about three days' march they arrived at the ruins of Lindisfarne Abbey.
The abbey was located on an island off the east coast. At low tide, a natural causeway led to the island,
surrounded by marshes and teeming with birds.
After decades of neglect, the abbey buildings were covered in vines, turning into a refuge for wild animals.
Further north was the River Tweed, which ran from west to east and had long been the border between the Picts and Northumbrians. To cross the river meant war.
At the Viking's command, the longships entered the river and chose a suitable place to build a pontoon bridge.
The Vikings had made careful preparations long before setting out. Soon, more than a dozen longships were lined up on the river, five meters apart. Heavy anchors were dropped to secure the ships, and then they were tied together with chains.
Towards midday, scattered Pictish scouts appeared on the north bank. Before they could get close, the advance party that had crossed the river earlier fired arrows and successfully drove them back.
The next morning, the pontoon bridge was ready, and Vig crossed over it, holding his grey horse by the bridle.
Halfway across, he looked at the seething river and the floating seaweed, and instinctively uttered the Latin proverb: "Aleaiactaest" ("The sling is cast").
Half an hour later, a scout arrived with a report of a large number of Picts, nearly three thousand, gathering fifteen miles ahead.
"They responded quickly,"
Wig stretched, gathering his troops to meet the enemy. Yoren whispered, "Sir, there are only 3,000 men on the north bank. I suggest we wait a little while."
"Wait? They are not fools. They are not so stupid as to put 3,000 men against my 5,000. Realizing their numerical superiority, they are forced to retreat."
To avoid frightening the enemy, Wig decided to engage in battle with equal forces: 2,000 spearmen,
500 Welsh mountain infantry, 200 cavalry, and more than 300 brigands scattered in loose formation.
For the next two hours, both sides marched towards each other, until they met in an open meadow at midday.
Compared to the Angles and the West Franks, the Picts were the worst armed. Only a few wore iron armor, while most wore tattered woollen jerkins, carried short swords and round shields, and their ranks were scattered like a crowd of civilians in a marketplace.
At this point, a mounted Pictish nobleman addressed his men, causing continuous cries of joy.
Seeing this, Vig, without wasting words, ordered the two phalanxes of spearmen to deploy in a wide horizontal formation and slowly advance north.
The distance was reduced to 200 meters. The Welsh archers, led by Shrike, launched arrows into the air. After several volleys, the 400 crossbowmen at the head of the column also opened fire.
A barrage of arrows rained down on the Picts, forcing them to form a shield wall and slowly approach the Viking line.
Finally, when the distance was reduced to 40 meters, the Picts counterattacked, snatching javelins from behind their backs and hurling them into the Viking line with powerful blows.
During the battle, the crossbowmen in the vanguard suffered heavy losses. Neither their shields nor the armor of the heavily armed crossbowmen could stop the javelin attack.
Disappointed, the crossbowmen lost heart and retreated back to the line along the pre-marked passages.