Ambrose stared down from the bluffs at the bustling harbour fort below. He waited impatiently for Polonius to return from the strategy meeting called by the town leaders. Polonius, because of his specialized knowledge, had been specifically invited. The prince turned to Phillip.
"When does our Byzantine scholar return, Phillip?"
"Patience, Ambrose. He will come as soon as he is able."
"I know, old friend. I guess I am just nervous."
"I would be surprised if you were not, Prince. We face a nation, not just some raiding party. But look, here comes Polonius now."
Ambrose watched Polonius climb the steep steps to the ramparts, and smiled as the Byzantine scholar approached. "Well, Polonius. Out with it! What did you hear at Dir and Askold's meeting?"
"Mainly good news, Master. As reports trickle in from the scattered settlements, it becomes clear that the Varangian military training is beginning to bear fruit.
Many farmsteads and villages have been pillaged, but defensible settlements are resisting strongly, to the surprise and dismay of the Pechenegs. When they raid the larger hamlets, they find no sign of the women and children. Instead, large numbers of well armed and stubborn male defenders wait for them.
From the ramparts and holes in the palisades of dozens of settlements, archers have been able to take a heavy toll of the raiders. Already, warriors stationed aboard the river karves have seriously threatened the ford to the west bank. Though their main fighting force managed to slip across the river, we are making it both difficult and expensive for the Pechenegs to move the tribe's heavy wagons and livestock across to the western bank."
"Then the Pechenegs must be feeling desperate. I understood that Ghuz and Khazars armies were advancing on them. Their only hope is to get their women and children and their herds across the river!"
"Precisely, Master. I suspect that they anticipated a lightening raid, a large haul of foodstuffs, and a quick ride to join their families moving west."
"That's excellent news. And what other reports did you hear?"
"Well, Dir and Askold have assigned me two tasks. Tomorrow, every carpenter and blacksmith in Kiev will be meeting with the three of us."
"With the three of us? In the name of all that is holy, why are we meeting with carpenters and blacksmiths?"
"Because, my friends, someone foolishly told Askold that I was an expert in Byzantine siege weapons."
Ambrose looked sheepish. "Well, Scholar, are you not?"
"It is true that I understand the scientific principles involved, and yes, I have examined the Byzantine weapons closely."
"So is there a problem?"
"I hope not. Tomorrow we are going to find out. We are going to supervise the construction of several machines."
At this point Phillip, who had been listening quietly, spoke up. "Polonius, you said that you were assigned two tasks. You have told us of one. What is the second?"
"In less than a week I must leave Kiev."
Ambrose looked puzzled. "Leave Kiev? Just where exactly are you planning on going?"
"Well, Dir and Askold have conceived of an audacious plan. They have stripped bare the villages north of Kiev, on the east bank. By so doing, they have managed to cobble together a force that actually outnumbers the Pecheneg forces on the eastern bank."
"But there must still be strong enemy forces on the east bank."
"Undoubtedly, but there is also the Ghuz and Khazar threat. The women and children, and the herds, must be protected. The Pechenegs have raided north, but dare not travel too far north in case our allies show up."
Even now the warriors march to the assembly points. In less than a week the combined forces will march past on its way south."
"That is wonderful news, but, with all due respect, why are they sending you?"
"Prince, as they move further south, they will seriously threaten the Pecheneg encampment on the east bank."
Ambrose looked puzzled. "And is this something that Dir and Askold really want to do? Would we not do better to reinforce the men here? By marching south we will be threatening the tribe's women and children who have not yet made it across the river. The Pechenegs will have no choice but to attack, and in overwhelming numbers.
"All true, young prince."
"But if we meet them without the protection of walls, any force we can put together is liable to be sliced to ribbons."
"Prince, where will they get the men from to attack the approaching army?"
"Hmm. I suppose that if the force is enough of a threat, the Khan will have to recall the army that is besieging Kiev."
"Precisely. And to join their families on the eastern bank, the rest of the horde will have to march south and then try to re-cross the Dnieper."
"And?"
"The Ghuz approach from the east, and our men move south. And the men of our fleet will be waiting. The Slavs and Varangians have fortified an island just north of the ford. They wait, with bows, many arrows, and logs. Many, many, logs. Oh, and I think that they may soon also have giant crossbows."
"Logs. We will fight with logs?"
Polonius smiled. "Fight? I think not. We just wait until the wagons and animals are in the deepest part of the channel and committed, and then we let the logs go. The strong current does the rest."
Ambrose grinned in reply. "I see. Though I suspect that you may be behind that devilishly simple plan, I hardly see why Dir and Askold want you to travel south with the fleet. And where are the giant crossbows coming from?"
"You and I will be designing and making them tomorrow. And they don't expect me to sail with the fleet. I am expected to join the regiment of Slavs we trained this summer and take them south with the army along the eastern bank."
"Our regiment? Why are they going south?"
"Somewhere we will be making a stand. Dir and Askold do not fear the Varangian portion of the skjaldborg will break before even the best of the Pecheneg cavalry, but the Slav levies are another matter. Don't forget, the Varangians will constitute only a small percent of the army's numbers.
Victory or defeat will be in the hands of the Slavs. Dir and Askold feel that a phalanx formation in the front of the Slav line will help them to hold steady."
Ambrose looked thoughtful. "Hmm. It certainly can't hurt. But what is to stop the enemy from outflanking the formation?"
"Good, Prince. You remember the Roman solution to the apparently invulnerable Macedonian formation. And the answer to your question is simple."
"I regret my simple brain cannot find it, sir scholar."
"We never, never, fight in open country. We use the forest as a shield, and we pick the site for battle. The Pecheneg cavalry can only destroy us if we give them the opportunity."
"Why do we want giant crossbows?"
"If the Pechenegs are smart, they will cover the sandbars and fill the shallows with archers. They could easily place enough bowmen to drive off the entire Varangian fleet. Remember, the nomad force on the western bank alone outnumbers the warriors of the fleet several fold."
"That will not stop the logs."
"No. It may even give us more targets. But I also had in mind a squadron of anchored karves with giant crossbows that will shoot well beyond the range of the strongest bow."
"Why not ballista? The ammunition would be a lot easier to come by."
"I admit I thought about that. The ballista are much less accurate, however, and there is a terrible vibration when the arm hits the crossbar. The Byzantine army only dares to use the smallest ballista on Constantinople's ramparts, for fear of doing damage to the walls, and those walls are over twenty feet thick."
"Then crossbows it is. And our targets will be?"
"The warriors, if Askold and Dir will it. Personally, I would shoot for the animals pulling the wagons."
"I think I see your point. If just one animal is killed, then the entire wagon halts."
"In fairly deep and fast water. It's possible that a wagon that stops and sinks into the
river bottom may not move again, and it would be certainly will be a sitting duck for the oncoming logs. Askold and Dir intend to make the crossing painfully expensive."
"You haven't mentioned yet that the regiment only obeyed your commands this summer because you had the privilege of counting amongst your officers a royal prince and the biggest, meanest drill-sergeant any of them had ever seen."
"The march south should effectively lift Kiev's siege, but I anticipate terrible danger for those foolish enough to go along. My friends, I would never ask it of you. It may well be suicidal."
"It will be if you go without us. Phillip, what say you?"
"Our Greek scholar may be a brilliant theoretical strategist, but he hasn't got the common sense God gave a toad. I don't think we have a choice. We will have to go along and nursemaid him."
Polonius smiled. "If I am to be forced to take simple barbarian officers along with me, well, I must admit, there is no one I would rather take than you two!"
Ambrose playfully threw a punch at Polonius. "Now that you have been lucky enough to recruit two of the best officers on the Dnieper, you better get to work on some cross-bow plans. Your commander-in-chief will be expecting them come morning."
Polonius, Ambrose and Phillip met Dir and Askold just after dawn at the street of the blacksmiths. Slaves had risen long before sunrise, and the charcoal fires were already roaring hot. Behind the two leaders came teams of expert carpenters and metalworkers, and behind them came warriors carrying metal rods and timbers. They had only a few days to produce the crossbows, and there was a lot of work to do.
Polonius had stayed awake most of the night, working over the plans. While the basic principles were easy, he had found the details were much more complicated. The designing of the trigger mechanism caused him particular anguish. One idea after another was tried and discarded.
Fortunately, the carpenters and blacksmiths were able to go ahead with the rest of the design. It took Polonius most of the day to design a satisfactory release. Phillip, for his part, helped Ambrose stretch the ropes that the metal arms twisted when the weapon was cranked back. Before sunset Polonius had a single rough but functional giant crossbow completed.
Dir and Askold had come by several times during the day. They were as excited as the developers were. They came back just before sunset.
Dir grinned down at Polonius who was on his back under the weapon. "Well, Polonius, when do we get a demonstration?"
"Soon, Jarl. How goes the battle?"
Dir became sober. "Not well. Today the Pechenegs are filling in the moat on either side of the curtain wall."
"But most of that moat is within range of the Citadel. Surely rocks from on high are discouraging them. Even if they are working near the harbour fort, they should still be in range of the slingers and archers from either the Citadel or the harbour fort."
"They are."
"So why the glum expression?"
"They have managed to round up hundreds of Slav villagers. We are killing our own people."
"God's curses! Jarl, that is a terrible dilemma . . . Now that should do it. Are you ready for a demonstration of our new weapon?"
"Absolutely. If it has enough range, then maybe we can arrange a little surprise for some of the Pecheneg overseers tomorrow.' He smiled grimly. 'I would enjoy that."
Three shields were piled against the log walls of a building some two hundred feet away. Polonius carefully placed a specially-carved spear in the trough, and then jerked down on the pin that held the taut rope.
With the intense pressure removed, the twisted ropes straightened. The twin metal bars snapped forward, pulling the bowstring against the butt of the spear with brutal force. The spear leapt into the air. It wobbled a little, but struck just above the shields. The sharp tip plunged deep into the log it struck.
Polonius watched its flight carefully. "See, Jarl. I looked through these two holes. Each weapon will have to be sighted in. Once it is accurate at close range, then we can test it for distance."
Dir just stared at the shaft that was still quivering in the wall. The spear had struck with enough force to easily transfix one or even two horses.' He grinned. 'Let's try it again!"
"We could greatly increase its range by making a shorter and lighter spear. But I will try it again with a standard spear."
After a minor adjustment to his sighting device, Polonius fired the weapon again. This time the missile flew true. The steel head punched through all three shields, and still drove deep into the wall.
Dir grinned again. "That is beautiful, Polonius. How soon before I can have a dozen of these?"
"The rest is up to your carpenters and blacksmiths, Jarl. I think we can improve the accuracy of the flight by gluing some goose quills on the spears. Perhaps we could ask a fletcher to try and mount some for us. Hmm. That would necessitate a groove running down here.
Other than that, I think that it is ready for production. We can take it apart tonight, and then the artisans can each copy one individual piece. As soon as each component is duplicated eleven more times, we will assemble them, and you will have your dozen."
"Ingenious, Polonius. Absolutely ingenious. After we try a couple of them out on the Pecheneg overseers, we will start mounting them in the karves."
Polonius spoke diffidently. "Jarl, after the blacksmiths complete that task, may I ask them to do one more little job?"
Dir beamed at the scholar. "Of course, Polonius! What did you have in mind?"
The thin Byzantine carefully unwrapped a strange metal object. "I asked a blacksmith today to make this out of some scrap iron. Be careful, the points are sharp."
Dir hefted the strange object. "Is it for throwing? There are enough points that you couldn't miss."
"Toss it on the ground, Jarl."
"Interesting. A point sticks straight up."
"Toss it again."
Bemused, the Rus jarl stooped over, gingerly picked it up, and threw it down a second time. "Again a point sticks straight up. I think you are trying to tell me something, Polonius."
"It is called a caltrop, Jarl. Roman infantry used to scatter hundreds of these in front of their lines. They are equally dangerous to man and horse."
"Enough of these could break a full charge, Polonius!"
"The trick only works once, Jarl. Slow-moving infantry can pick them up and clear a path."
"All the better. After we have crippled hundreds of horses, our archers can pick off the men assigned to clear the paths.
Polonius, I will have a thousand of these made up, and I will send them south after the army by our swiftest ship. Would that be satisfactory?"
Polonius smiled. "Eminently, Jarl."
On the third day after the conference, word came that the mainly Slav army on the other bank was in sight. The fort became a whirlwind of activity. The labourious task of ferrying Polonius' Slav regiment across the river was begun, and Ambrose, Phillip and Polonius were ordered to be ready to cross soon after dawn of the following day.
As darkness approached, the three friends climbed to the ramparts that looked over the harbour fort and the river. They stared eastward, until Ambrose broke the silence.
"Look, here comes the last of the karves. Tomorrow, my friends, it will be our turn to cross.
I can see the fires of the encampment. They seem to stretch up and down river for miles. There are so many fires that the clouds above are reflecting the light. Is it possible that our army over there is that big?"
Polonius smiled into the dark. "Actually, each warrior was specifically instructed to make two bonfires, and to make them as close to the shoreline as possible."
Ambrose stared across the now dark waters for a few moments before he responded. "It's pretty damned impressive. If the thought of thousands of enemy warriors pouring south to where they left their loved ones doesn't scare the Pechenegs, then nothing will."
Ambrose's prediction was soon proven right. Within a day the nomads sent most of the warriors so
uth. Enough warriors remained around Kiev to maintain the siege, but not enough for any more attacks. The town's defences had been far from complete when the Pechenegs had arrived, and only the courage of the Slavs, the reinforcements and supplies brought by the ever-cruising ships, and the great fighting prowess of the Varangians had managed to keep the horde from several times overrunning the critical passage joining the cliff-top citadel of Kiev with its harbour fort.
The narrow passage was a critical link for the town, and the enemy had constantly menaced it. Cutting it would not have directly threatened the citadel itself, but it would have cut the defenders off from their precious river-borne supplies.
CHAPTER 28.
Battle!
Ambrose, Polonius and Phillip joined their regiment of Slav spearmen in the late afternoon, and by dawn the next morning they were marching south. Askold, who had crossed with them, marched as commander-in-chief of the eastern bank army.
The excitement and fear soon faded. Ambrose's world shrank to what he could see. It consisted of dust and sun, rain and aching muscles. Although he was in good physical shape, and had ridden across both the land of the Norse and the Rus, he had never before marched long distances, and certainly never carrying a massive panoply of military equipment on his back.
Two days into the march a river karve caught up with them. A handsome officer in glittering armour leapt ashore and called out to Askold. "Jarl! I have news for you."
Ambrose, marching with Polonius and Phillip at the head of the Slav regiment, was close behind the commander, and Ambrose strained to hear the conversation.
"Well? Speak up, man. What is the news?"
"I have much to report, Jarl. There are still mounted Pechenegs circling Kiev, but it seems that we may only be facing a token force. All assaults have ended. We can only assume that the majority of warriors have actually gone somewhere."
"Odin be thanked! So just where have the bastards gone?"
Ambrose, Prince of Wessex; Trader of Kiev. Page 23