Erik let out a chuckle, "Well, we could sit in this city for six months and grow fat. Let them try to starve us."
"They will not just wait," Bjorn corrected, "Think about it, Erik. If you cannot attack a superior weapon in the daylight... when do you attack?"
Erik's eyes widened slightly. "At night. When we cannot see to aim the cannons."
"Exactly," Bjorn smiled grimly.
"Then we will keep the men awake," Erik declared, resting his hand on his axe. "We will chop their heads off as soon as they poke over the ledge."
"Why fight them with axes when we have the fire?" Bjorn replied. He turned around and shouted down the wall.
"Halvar! Julian! Come here!"
His left-hand marshal and the young Frankish farmer quickly jogged over.
"Julian, you know this city better than I do," Bjorn said. "I need you to gather every single torch, lantern, and barrel of lamp oil you can find. I want them brought to the walls immediately."
