For this operation, Vig planned to deploy 2,500 troops, dividing them into three columns, each tasked with attacking one of the three valleys where rebel forces were entrenched.
Vig personally commanded the central column:
50 armored guards, two mountain infantry companies, and over 400 levied militiamen—a total of 800 men.
The other two columns, led by Jorunn and Shrike, fielded similar numbers.
For logistics, Vig hastily gathered 100 short-legged mountain pack ponies to haul food, armor, and supplies.
Once preparations were complete, the force marched out of Stirling County, following a winding trail deep into the Highlands.
March Into the Highlands
Summer in the Scottish Highlands resembled a rumpled green velvet carpet.
The 2,000-plus men trailed in a long column, boots sinking into rain-soaked peat.
The damp wind reeked of earth and rot.
Late summer heather was in full bloom; the path was lined with purple flowers. But Vig's eyes were fixed on a distant saddle between hills, where a few crooked thatched huts stood—sheep-dung smoke curling from their chimneys.
After half a day, they finally reached signs of habitation.
Vig sent Connor ahead with a yúanyāng-formation team to gather information.
"Be polite. Don't frighten the locals."
"Yes, my lord."
Connor dashed away. Half an hour later, he returned with a blank-faced Gael youth—"a guide" hired for five silver pennies.
The youth wore the characteristic Highland attire: a knee-length woollen tartan kilt. Each pattern supposedly signified lineage or rank, but Vig couldn't decipher it.
"Five pennies? That's cheap."
With eight trained field agents—including Connor—the local guides were merely optional extras rather than essential scouts.
During the next two days, the army hired six more local guides and passed a Highland clan settlement, buying oats and sheep with silver.
Highland Clan Structure
Old missionary writings described Highland society as clan-based:
Tier One: The clan chief and his sworn warriors.
Tier Two: Freemen, each allocated land for farming or pasture. Wheat rarely grew in this cold land—oats and barley were the main crops, and the rest was grazing ground.
Tier Three: Captive slaves, with no personal freedom.
While observing a settlement, Vig noticed something crucial: the chief's authority rested on personal prestige, not strict hereditary rights. If the old chief died and his son was too young, the position might pass to any powerful clansman.
Aha… once the rebels are dealt with, I should summon all clan chiefs and formally grant them hereditary titles.
If their children's future depends on my word, their loyalty will soar.
This idea mirrored how the English crown's 17th-century Land Acts transformed clan lands into hereditary property—turning clan members into tenants and turning chiefs into English-leaning landlords.
The Three Columns Divide
On the fourth day, they reached a fork and split into three columns as planned.
Along the route, Connor studied stacked stones by the roadside—coded scratches left by undercover agents.
By late morning of the fifth day, he brought bad news:
"My lord… one of our undercover men is dead!"
Vig stiffened.
"His cover was blown?"
Connor shook his head. "Unclear. The scratches suggest an accident."
The target was close. Vig refused to lose momentum.
"Forward."
The Rebels Appear
Soon after, a sharp whistle split the air—a signal from an outrider team.
Moments later, a dozen infantrymen fled over the ridge, pursued by a horde of disheveled rebels.
"Finally," Vig murmured.
He signaled the army to form up.
The rebels had two choices: flee or fight.
It was June; crops were growing. If they abandoned their valley, they would lose farmland and livestock—handing everything to the Norse. Without food, they'd only raid Highland clans, which would still mean fighting.
Better to fight here and now.
As more rebels surged over the ridge, Vig arrayed his troops toward the northwest:
Center: 50 armored guards + 300 levied men
Wings: Two mountain infantry companies
Rear guard: 150 levies guarding baggage, ponies, and non-combatants
The formation formed a rough hollow trapezoid, with sheep and pack-ponies secured inside.
"Five hundred Pictish rebels, plus a hundred Highlanders in kilts. Hired local mercenaries?"
Vig tugged his hair and ordered the longbowmen of the mountain companies to fire at will.
The Battle Begins
Five volleys of arrows thinned the rebel ranks.
At fifty meters, the longbowmen released their final shots and withdrew behind the shield wall.
At thirty meters, both sides hurled javelins.
Through the experience of the Tweed River battle three years ago, Norse shield-axe infantry now carried standardized javelins for mid-range killing power.
The rebels, armed mostly with wooden spears, inflicted little damage—their projectiles lacked the iron points needed to pierce Norse mail or padded armor.
After arrows and javelins, over a hundred rebels lay dead.
Morale faltered; the timid slowed their charge, while only the bolder fighters slammed into the Norse shield wall.
This time, Vig's forces had no shortage of armor—over half the levies wore padded or iron armor.
The rebels' wild rush failed to break the line; when they tired, the Norse counter-pushed.
Seeing this, the two mountain infantry companies on the wings advanced—not to engage immediately, but to encircle and cut off escape routes.
Realizing defeat was imminent, the Highland mercenaries guarding the rear fled first—without suffering a single casualty, like cheerleaders on a battlefield.
Abandoned, the remaining Picts attempted a desperate boar-rush breakthrough.
Only about a hundred managed to burst through.
The rest—around 300—were captured.
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