Chapter 422 The Last Chance
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In the eyes of the young soldiers, the Irish under the city wall are similar to the Scots, with almost the same language and clothes. If they hadn't seen it with their own eyes, the young soldiers would not have believed it.
These barbarians turned out to be the same nation as themselves.
"Oh, my God, am I not descended from the same ancestors as these savages? Shame on me!"
The young soldier looked at the wall of people below, thinking unwillingly.
In fact, not only the Irish, but even the Welsh are the same as the Scots, they are the same nation.
England was originally dominated by the Celts. After the Romans came, they occupied England and drove the Kate people to the cold north and southwest mountains, as well as the nearby Irish island.
After the collapse of the Roman Empire, the European barbarians came again, continued to drive the Kate people away, and then fused the genes of the Romans and some Kate people to form today's Anglo-Saxons, that is, the English.
"My God!" "My God!" "God bless!"
The castle guarded by just over 2,000 soldiers was suddenly overwhelmed by the huge army in front of them. The first thing almost everyone did was to pray to God.
The only stronghold in Comorick County, Munster Province is also the largest stronghold. As the chief of this stronghold, John Perrott feels a lot of pressure inexplicably.
Especially under his monocular, those Kites actually had a siege engine at this time, which made him take a deep breath.
In the past, no matter how many people came to attack the city, Sir John didn't worry at all.
As one of the most cutting-edge strongholds, this is the strongest castle in Munster Province. It took 5,000 people and took half a year to build it. It is indestructible.
Moreover, in the past, the Celtics were unable to attack, and after a stalemate for three or four days, they would take the initiative to retreat due to insufficient food and grass.
This time, what did he see?
Carts of food and grass were sent to the camp that was being repaired. Although traces of battle could still be seen in the Celtic camp, it was much better than before.
At this point, John came to a conclusion in his mind: the Celtics were not good.
Looking at it like this, it is very likely that the entire stronghold will be captured.
Thinking of this, Sir John couldn't help having a headache.
Since the last time he was received by His Majesty the King because of the strength of the colonization, he was appointed as the head of the colonization of Munster Province, commanding the army of 14 strongholds in the seven counties of Munster Province.
It can be said that it took a big step directly.
In addition, Lemire Watson was appointed as the head of the colonization of Leinster Province because of his outstanding performance.
This is what John envies the most, because Dublin is in the province of Leinster, and it is easiest to achieve results by performing beside the Governor.
The province of Munster, where he is located, is the southwestern part of the island of Ireland, and it is also the place where the Celtics have the most settlements.
"Come on!" His Excellency shouted loudly.
"My lord!" Immediately, someone ran over from outside and replied respectfully.
"Has the messenger you sent come back?" Sir John naturally asked for support from all over when his parents attacked the city this time.
"My lord, currently only Waterford County, North Tipperary County, South Tipperary County and Clare County can support!"
"What about the rest of the counties?" Frowning, Jazz had a bad feeling in his heart.
County Kerry and County Cork are located at the southernmost tip of the island of Ireland, and are naturally the areas where the Celts mainly live.
If the two counties are breached, the consequences will be disastrous, and his future may come to naught.
Thinking of this, Sir John frowned more clearly.
"Quick, before the Celtics have completely besieged the city, send someone to Dublin for help!"
In this way, in the end, we can only count on the governor to send someone.
Sir John sighed, rubbed his forehead, and thought silently.
Thrillingly made the people in the castle wait for a day, this group of Celts did not attack the city, but instead built a camp in a decent manner, quite like a regular army.
The next day, Your Excellency went to the city wall in person to cheer for the soldiers and take a look at how the Kites were going on the offensive.
Plumes of cooking smoke rose from the Celtic camp, as if to show the people in the castle that they were not short of food.
Thinking about it, the Celts are not all tribes. Most of them live on farming and animal husbandry. On the fertile land of Ireland, the land is sparsely populated, so how can they be short of food?
Not long after the smoke rose, in less than half an hour, a team of more than a thousand people approached the castle gently, bringing a bit of depression to the castle.
Sir John looked through the binoculars and found that most of them were old, weak, sick and disabled, and they knew at a glance that they were sent to die, that is, to test the troops.
"Tell everyone, wait for my order before acting, and don't do it privately!" Sir John turned his head and ordered.
Aside, the army commander immediately agreed.
As the team gradually approached, the soldiers on the city wall became more and more nervous, and Sir John also clenched his fists.
Just when the probing troops were a hundred steps away from the castle, the archers were allowed to throw down the rain of swords.
After three throws, there were less than four hundred people standing under the city wall.
The four hundred people looked up with bewildered faces, then ran back with their heads buried in their legs, losing any consciousness of continuing to attack.
The bearded man who commanded the Celtic army ignored the feelings of these soldiers, once again filling up with a thousand old, weak, sick and disabled, and continued to move forward.
As a result, this time they retreated and returned in defeat, seeing the corners of the mouths of other tribal leaders twitching, feeling extremely distressed.
"Boss O'Hara, we can't go on like this!" On the side, a big man with braids all over his head, wearing rough linen clothes, yelled with distressed face.
The other tribal leaders around him also nodded and shouted, and the originally peaceful camp immediately became noisy again.
"Everyone, I am the leader of the tribal alliance today. This is unanimously recognized by everyone. You have also sworn before God. My order must not be disobeyed!"
This big man with a particularly burly body and tattoos on his arms glanced at the leader of the trouble, his eyes were extremely sharp, as if he wanted to eat someone, and he declared loudly.
"Everyone, today is different from before. The English have occupied our homeland, and we have no way to retreat. The tribe and the land will be swallowed up by the devils!"
"This is our last counterattack and our only chance. If we fail, the consequences will be disastrous!"
"So, if anyone still doubts my decision, I will chop him with an ax immediately!"
As he spoke, the big man slashed at a chair with an axe, and the chair fell apart.
The moment the ax fell, all the leaders were startled and felt chills all over. They believed that this number one warrior of the Celts would definitely do what he said.
I drank too much yesterday, sorry
(end of this chapter)