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Now reading: Chapter 46 46: The Scourge Of The Seas II from The Path Of The Basileus, a Action novel by ChilleanGUY.

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Anno Domini 827,September-3-20

Mobilizing the Varangians for raiding was, without exaggeration, the easiest thing imaginable. When I put the idea to them, the question was not why, but when and against whom. In barely three days I had reached my goal: I recruited five thousand Varangians from a population that already exceeded thirteen thousand on the island.

Unfortunately for Håkon, I needed every piece of equipnt available. When he returned from his journey a couple of months later, he would find the warehouses half empty. All newly forged swords were requisitioned to equip the Varangians, and I even borrowed many of the swords from my own n, arming them with spears alone. I needed good equipnt for raiding, even if I could not afford to outfit them all like my personal troops.

Most of the Varangians wore only a padded gambeson and a mail shirt, along with the Byzantine kettle-style helt. I could not equip them with the finest steel. Although I had doubled the output of the forge—reaching a thousand smiths at work and importing iron and coal in large quantities—steel still had to be divided between defense and export. We also had to travel light. The heat of Africa, even in autumn and winter, would be overwhelming in full armor, and that was a factor I could not ignore.

Only about three hundred Varangians wore the full armor of my personal guard. The rest were equipped with various combinations of padded gambesons. I had realized too late that I should have produced sothing akin to the ichcahuipilli: a tunic made of layers of cotton hardened in brine and plant fibers, highly effective against arrows. It was even said to be capable of stopping musket balls. Light, cool, and resilient. If the Spaniards, with all their tallurgy, had abandoned steel for that kind of protection upon arriving in soarica, there had to be a good reason. Unfortunately, that idea would have to wait for another ti.

What I had begun to develop was a version of the English longbow—bows around a ter and a half in length. Initially, I had not intended to use archers in my armies. Few knew how to use them well, and those who did usually belonged to the themas, beyond my reach for recruitnt.

With the Varangians, the situation was different. Many of them knew how to use a bow because they hunted in autumn and winter to obtain at. Otherwise, they would have had to slaughter part of their livestock—especially cattle, which were far too valuable. As a result, archery practice was common among them. In Crete there were craftsn skilled in bow-making who, after the departure of the sarakenoi, had been left with almost no work. Since my army used crossbows, I asked them to produce several hundred bows, both to test their usefulness and to prevent that craft from disappearing on the island. The mont to use them had arrived.

We distributed the bows among those Varangians who already handled them best, and among many others who could learn quickly. We loaded large quantities of arrows, leaving bolts and crossbows aside for this expedition.

Once everything was loaded, we held drills to determine who could use the bows most effectively. Then we set sail with fifteen dromons, forty transport ships from my rchant marine, and about eighty-five drakkars—many of them normally used as fishing vessels by the locals, who had no trouble lending them for the expedition.

With five thousand Varangians, we began the journey. By Varangian standards, it was slow. The transport ships had no oars, so we depended entirely on the wind. We advanced at a asured pace, but we carried most of the supplies needed for the raids; this slowness was necessary to sustain longer operations and to take greater spoils from the sarakenoi.

The voyage took around eight days on the open sea. For most of the journey we navigated by the stars, keeping our course as straight as possible. At last we reached Malta, where a visibly tense local garrison received us, shut inside its small kastro. At first, they thought we were raiders or sarakenoi pirates, who—according to them—had already been attacking their coasts frequently.

In Malta we began leaving part of our equipnt behind. I spoke with the local kentarchos, who commanded the garrison, so that he would grant us an area from which to operate. He gave us temporary possession of several warehouses where we could store what we captured. Our presence greatly reassured the officer, who was clearly relieved to know that a naval force would be operating in the region.

I had so very old maps of the area, dating back to when it was still Roman. They were imprecise, but they marked cities with ports, suggesting that they had once been important points. Djerba stood out as a good place to begin. Being an island, if we acted quickly and took control of all its ports, we could easily block access, cut communications, and give ourselves all the ti we needed to raid at leisure. Of course, we would leave several drakkars ready to intercept any vessel that tried to escape or approach.

After resupplying with water and leaving our large reserves of pickled food, salted goods, and olives in brine in Malta, we set sail carrying only what was necessary for eight days, trusting that we would obtain food and drink through raiding.

We rested for a day to recover our rhythm and then resud sailing south. For six days we traveled driven solely by the wind, watching carefully for any ship that might appear on the horizon. The hours passed slowly until, at last, we began to make out land.

A spyglass would have been invaluable, but centuries still remained before its invention. We depended entirely on the n with the sharpest eyesight, those capable of discerning shapes at a distance.

"Land… I see… a harbor," shouted one of the Varangians who had climbed the mast of one of our transport ships.

"Good… it seems we've found our first target," I said, and I did not take long to summon all the Varangian ship captains. Coordination was essential.

"Listen. We attack fast and with violence. No rapes. We don't have ti for amusents. We go in, kill anyone who resists, take prisoners, and load them onto the transport ships along with all the loot. We need to hit as many local ports as possible. The goal is to cause chaos; the plunder is secondary. Speed is what matters. At the slightest resistance—kill," I said, without raising my voice.

The Varangian captains nodded and began moving among the drakkars, repeating my orders again and again. There were no argunts and no questions.

Once everything was coordinated, we left groups of Varangians guarding the ships on several drakkars and took our positions. At once, the oars began to strike the water with a firm, violent rhythm. The fleet surged forward.

We advanced at great speed. The coast drew closer rapidly, and it did not take long for to see the harbor's watchtowers go on alert as they spotted us. As we closed the distance, I watched the guards abandon the towers and run in desperation toward the local fortress.

I moved to the prow of the dromon. When we finally reached the pier, there was no one left to offer imdiate resistance. We secured the ship and disembarked without wasting a second, axes in hand. The Varangians scattered at once, running in every direction like an unleashed tide.

The screams began almost imdiately—sharp, desperate. Blood started to flow through the streets.

I imdiately searched for the most important buildings, those likely to hold valuables, especially the local warehouses. I advanced with my hird close behind , watching the slaughter without stopping.

To my left, a Varangian drove his sword through the abdon of a sarakenoi who tried to block his way into a house. The blade ca out drenched in blood as the man collapsed to the ground in spasms. Agonized screams echoed from inside as the Varangian entered without hesitation, the weapon still soaked.

To my right, another Varangian was beating rcilessly an idiot who had tried to face him with a miserable knife. He killed him with blow after blow while what appeared to be his family watched, frozen in place. The Varangian giant extinguished the life of the father and husband without the slightest emotion.

I walked to the local market. There were stalls filled with food, fruit, and dates. I took a few and put them in my mouth as I sat down to observe what was happening around . The Varangian tide was taking control of the settlent with brutal speed, and I ate calmly while everything collapsed.

"Sigurd… want so? They're decent," I said, offering him a few dates.

"Let's see?" he replied, extending his hand. He lifted his mail from his face, popped a couple into his mouth, and lowered it again. After chewing for only a few seconds, he lifted it once more and spat on the ground. "Ugh… they taste awful," he said with a grimace.

"Hah… all right, let's move. They've taken control here already. Looks like people are running toward that tower," I said, pointing to the only structure that rose above the rest of the settlent.

We advanced, stepping through small pools of blood and dodging bodies. Soon I noticed that most of the population had fled toward the local fortification. Unfortunately for them, the gates had been closed so ti ago, leaving a large crowd trapped outside, begging for them to be opened.

"This, if I'm not mistaken, is a ribat. A small religious fortification. Its defenders are fanatics—they won't surrender," I said, studying the sarakenoi structure.

"The walls aren't high and I don't see many up top. We can storm it," Sigurd replied, gauging the distance.

I looked around and raised my voice. "Archers… archers!"

Several Varangians who were taking prisoners or finishing soone off dropped what they were doing and ca forward with their bows. I pointed at the walls.

"Don't let them interfere," I said with a wave of my hand.

They imdiately took position about a hundred ters away and began firing at any defender who tried to peek out between the battlents.

"n of the north!" I shouted again.

More Varangians began to arrive. I pointed to a large group of people packed in front of the fortification and gestured again. "Prisoners."

The Varangians charged at once. The group scattered in every direction, screaming and falling under the pressure.

The defenders on the walls tried to show themselves to shoot arrows or throw stones, but several hundred archers had already gathered, giving them no respite. They were few and completely outmatched.

"Sigurd, do you rember what we did in Bulgaria with the improvised battering ram?" I asked, eyeing a nearby cart.

"Oh, I rember it well… I see where you're going with this. I'll find sothing to break that door," he replied, signaling my hird to follow him.

He did not take long to return with what looked like heavy wooden beams loaded onto a cart. Along with a group of well-ard Varangians, they began smashing the ribat's wooden gate again and again.

Many defenders rushed toward the entrance to try to stop them, but by concentrating there they barely managed to show themselves, and every attempt was punished with an arrow. I saw several fall before they all withdrew to push from the inside, trying to keep the door from giving way.

"The idiots are blocking the door. Find a ladder!" I shouted as I identified their position.

The Varangians spread out while the archers continued to keep the walls suppressed. Before long, a ladder appeared, surely taken from sowhere nearby. They leaned it against the wall and, within seconds, began climbing like ants.

The archers were the first to reach the top of the wall and imdiately began bombarding the defenders with a constant rain of projectiles, while more Varangians climbed up behind them. It did not take long before the gate was opened, once everything blocking it from the inside was removed. I watched the defenders retreat toward their final stronghold, leaving behind a trail of dead and wounded scattered across the ribat's courtyard.

Their last defense was a wooden door. The improvised battering ram did not take long to smash it apart with steady, well-aid blows. When the wood finally gave way, the Varangians charged through the breach as soon as the ram was pulled back. I heard the dull crack of bones breaking as my n, protected by heavy armor, attacked with fury, wielding their polehamrs.

We followed the trail of blood to the center of the fortification. All the civilians who had managed to get inside had taken refuge there. Soone was trying to calm them, but he locked eyes with the mont I appeared. Behind him, the last defenders died screaming "Allahu akbar" as they hurled themselves against the wall of flesh and steel ford by my best Varangians. They did not last long.

I looked at the hundreds of trembling people before and then fixed my gaze on the one who seed to be the religious figure of the place.

"As-salamu alaykum," I said, touching my forehead with my hand before lowering it calmly.

I saw rage ignite in his face the instant those words left my mouth."How dare you attack this place of learning, vile heathen?" he shouted, consud by fury.

"Perhaps because I'm not a sarakenoi," I replied in a clearly sarcastic tone.

"Roman…" he spat between clenched teeth.

"Correct," I replied as I walked across the room. I noticed several shelves of books and stopped to examine them, since the Varangians had begun looting now that no ard resistance remained.

"The Qur'an, I see… yes, that's what this is," I said, taking one of the volus and beginning to read it calmly, as if we were not surrounded by prisoners and corpses.

"Leave those books… your vile hands cannot defile them," he shouted in fury.

"Do you even understand the situation you're in?" I replied, turning to look at him. "But these books have no value to . They can't be sold, and I know they're important to you… oh," I added, taking another volu and leafing through it with interest. "Islamic jurisprudence. This is interesting. I'll take this one. I'm interested in reading it," I said as I slowly turned several pages.

"What will happen to us?" the man asked, his voice breaking.

"History will repeat itself," I replied without emotion. "Just as you enslaved mine, I will enslave you."

Then I turned toward the Varangians, who waited in silence for my orders."What are you waiting for? Co on—chain them," I ordered calmly, without taking my eyes off the book.

The screams began again, filling the interior of the ribat as the Varangians moved into action.

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If there are spelling mistakes, please let know.

Leave a comnt; support is always appreciated.

I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.

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