9.
9.
After asking the chieftain for another one of Ella's coins and pocketing it, I busily moved about.
Usually in books, a sentence like 'someone wintered here or there and moved the following summer' only takes a sentence to express, but to actually realize it required far more work than I had imagined, so as the one handling the practicalities, I had no choice but to run around diligently on my own two feet...
First of all, unless the plan was to kill all the locals, negotiation with them was inevitable.
The core of it was to politely convey something along the lines of 'We have no interest in your lives, so let us not fight!' and then wait for their answer. If they wished to fight?
Well then, it was either run or fight, one of the two.
Fortunately, having succeeded in gaining the goodwill of Dover's Earl with Áli's magic ring, we had achieved our first objective of securing a foothold within the island of Britain.
We spent the night at a camp set up on a hill beside the village, prepared to flee straight to the ships at any suspicious sign in case of a surprise attack, but nothing happened—so wasn't it fair to say it was a success, at least so far?
Usually, the hardest parts of traveling are the unfamiliar bed and unfamiliar food, but the brave men of the Danes and Svear happily wolfed down the smoked meat and fish that had been hung from the longhouse ceiling to age in the warm smoke, and they slept perfectly well with the earth as their bed and the sky as their blanket.
Perhaps that was true camping?
What the people of the 21st century do, using integrated tents and such, was perhaps something unmanly merely wearing the mask of camping.
Of course, in my case, I had no physical issues whatsoever, but mentally, I felt a kind of shame, like 'Even so, I'm from the 21st century...'
I had learned that sleeping on grass gets you bitten by chigger mites...
'I'll have to overhaul everything about this expedition sooner or later.'
Even if supply on the level of a far-future (2022) army was absolutely impossible, couldn't we at least procure blankets to spread on the ground and cover our bodies?
Considering Árós's immense productivity, it was entirely feasible.
"You truly slept like a bear last night, Helgi! But aren't you letting your guard down too much, sleeping beside people who could turn into enemies at any moment? Hahaha!"
In any case, to get rid of the terrible smell that inevitably came with sleeping rough, we searched for a nearby stream. It was a shallow tributary flowing from the River Dour.
Considering the white cliffs we had seen crossing the sea at dawn yesterday, it surely contained lime, but I trusted my body, plastered with stats and traits, and got straight in.
[Splash! Bubble bubble-]
Though full summer had begun, I closed my eyes in the still-chill stream water and quietly sank into my inner self.
The boisterous sounds of the men seemed to come from far away, and my head, tangled with the problems of my father and the expedition, emptied out for a brief moment.
'Let's take it slow. One thing at a time. First, we must move to a larger village. Dover is too small to handle 800 outsiders.'
I couldn't just immediately capture Ella and inflict cruel punishment upon him. In that case, solving the problems one by one would do.
This place, Dover, was where the roads laid by the old Roman Empire began, and that road led further north to a larger town, Canterbury (Cantwareburh—the stronghold of the Kentish people).
'We absolutely must take that place.'
Whether I used another one of Áli's magic rings, spent money, or did whatever it took, I had to seize Canterbury, the heart of Kent. And if not? Well, then there was no helping it...
Last night before falling asleep, I had talked about this and that with Ivar, and Ivar had proposed we head straight for East Anglia, another kingdom of the Angles situated right under the nose of Northumbria, but...
With a 21st-century sensibility, I couldn't understand leaving the rear of our line of advance unstable, so I wanted to secure this place, Kent, more firmly.
'It's clear this expedition will be long, and if we just muddle through with gifts and threats in a haphazard way as we're doing now, there's a high chance it'll come back to haunt us later. Fortunately, we've made a good first step, so for the second step—'
"Helgi! Helgi!"
'Hmm?'
Just as I was organizing my thoughts, feeling the pleasant flow of water gently swaying my body, Ivar's voice, urgently grabbing and shaking my shoulder, came vaguely to my ears.
When I raised my body, which had been submerged wearing only linen underclothes, the coolly blowing breeze felt rather refreshing.
"Phew— What is it, Ivar? What's the matter?"
After guiding the blowing wind into my lungs and catching my breath, I had assumed from Ivar's utterly flustered expression that some kind of enemy had attacked.
"What's the matter? I thought you were dead in the water, Helgi! You dive like a fish, brother!"
His flustered, dumbfounded look lasted only a moment; soon his face was covered in admiration and laughter as he smacked my shoulder with a slap-slap- sound, and the ten or so warriors who had been enjoying their cold-water battle shower nearby also merrily shouted things like "Fish Helgi!" "Son of Hel!" "Demigod!"
"No one can ever beat Jarl Helgi at diving."
"But can you beat me at other things?"
"Well, in swimming, who knows! I've never lost to anyone!"
Chuckling at the warriors who had begun boasting of their own merits because of my unintentional eccentric act, I told Ivar I was sorry for worrying him and that I was fine.
"Everyone seems to have washed up enough, so let's switch off with the next group now. Though we're on an expedition, missing washing day is an unfortunate thing."
Have I ever talked about the shockingly clean hygiene of the Vikings in this era?
They even have soap (closer to a slippery lump of oil for washing off grime)! Trimming fingernails, toenails, eyebrows, beards, and hair was basic. There was even a social atmosphere where a dirty man had no popularity and was utterly despised.
Now, who's the barbarian? You filthy Anglo-Saxons, Franks, and all you other assorted barbarian bastards? Of course, I guessed that trade with the Eastern Rome and the Islamic empires probably played a large role in the background of this cleanliness...
Since it was the early medieval period, many aspects were still lacking.
For instance, staying in the same house as livestock and sharing lice and fleas, or having only a rudimentary concept of sewers and roughly collecting dung in a large pit (simply not throwing it onto the street was already impressive enough).
These were things I, having experienced the extremely advanced hygiene culture of the far future, would have to work to change.
Of course, I didn't know how to make a toilet of pure white porcelain or a sewer system either.
So, I planned to visit great cities like Rome and Constantinople someday. Because what I, with my automatic interpretation ability, needed were books containing knowledge.
And to do that, I would first have to earn a lot of money.
"Right, Helgi. Are your thoughts unchanged? On the things we talked about yesterday evening, I mean."
At the head of the now-fresh-smelling group, walking shoulder to shoulder in pairs along the path, I was briefly inhaling the phytoncide scent when Ivar suddenly posed the question.
"My thoughts are unchanged, Ivar. We absolutely must make Canterbury friendly to us."
"Canterbury, my brother. The people of this land of Kent are hardy folk. True to being descendants of the Jutes, they are quite fierce. Konungr Bagsecg of Jutland would be very pleased if he saw them now."
"Ah— Konungr Bagsecg, I heard he headed to Uppsala when we departed."
"Yes, I heard that too. There seems to have been some back-and-forth with Father. Mother will handle it well, I'm sure, but I heard a marriage with Halfdan is arranged... Anyway, the important thing now isn't whether Halfdan marries Bagsecg's daughter or not, Helgi."
Shaking his head, Ivar put on a deliberately serious expression.
"Canterbury. I mean, are you truly set on going there? As you know, occupying that large town with our 800 men is difficult. Rather, let's go to East Anglia, which is now little more than a shell, Helgi. Let's just... what was it, in their tongue, sack a monastery or two, sell a few as slaves, drive out the rest, and winter there, and that'll be that."
Ivar's words were brutal. But wasn't that natural?
A flock of sheep driving off a wolf becomes news precisely because such a thing does not normally happen.
Tearing into the weak. It could not be justified, but had it not been a logic that had never once been wrong on this Earth?
However, my thoughts were a bit different.
"Ivar. My brother. If we burn this great island everywhere our feet touch in vengeance for our father, the embers will grow larger and larger until they finally become unmanageable. Like Surtr from the myths."
At my words, spoken while shaking my head, Ivar's ears seemed to prick up.
"Then does going to Canterbury change this situation? As I see it, this only ends when we die, or they die."
I almost nodded my head myself at Ivar's highly commonsensical(?) words.
After all, were we not invaders? For now, we were acting meekly because we were an advance force of 800, but the second and third waves of Norsemen that would continue to follow were not something anyone could stop.
We brothers had risen up for our father's vengeance, but the warriors we led demanded payment. Honor was ample reward, but people always wanted more.
The second, third, and fourth sons raised in the harsh natural environment of Scandinavia—which had little land good for farming apart from my domain, Árós—what exactly would they want in a newly conquered country?
Conflict was already a foregone conclusion, and blood would flow.
I wanted to prevent that, even if just a little. Not simply out of some half-baked prophet's mercy, but for the sake of a smoother vengeance.
"You're right, Ivar. But if we can sweep away the obstacles to our father's vengeance with just a few words, then it's worth a try. For now, I can only hope that Canterbury's Jarl is someone we can reasonably talk to."
"Sometimes you're so very optimistic, Helgi. Though, I suppose with power like yours, the moment things go sideways you can just sweep everything away and be done with it. Fine, let's give it a try!"
Ivar grinned and clapped me on the back.
Now that I had the overall commander's permission, all that remained was to hope things went well.
Fortunately, according to what I had heard from the Earl of Dover, the local sentiment towards Wessex, the western hegemon that had already swallowed up Kent and East Anglia, was not very good, so (did Wessex bring Kent and East Anglia under its influence by peaceful means? Of course blood and swords would have followed) there was probably some angle to work with.
'If it doesn't work, I'll have no choice but to settle it with my fists.'
I had wracked my brain considerably, but unfortunately, I was closer to being a great warrior than a great politician. Though I had boasted to Ivar, in truth I had no real plan either.
I would just face them first and tell them the truth about our situation and theirs.
If dialogue failed, in the end, there was no choice but to settle it by force. In any case, I absolutely had to see the face of Ella, King of Northumbria, with these two eyes of mine.
"They say it won't take even a day if we follow the old road, so let's set out tomorrow. For today, I'm going to get some ale from the Earl's house!"
At Ivar's jovial words, the following group cheered.
Judging by everyone fiddling with the bits of silver they had somehow acquired, there was a high chance of another drinking party tonight. Amid that atmosphere, my heart, weighed down by heavy responsibility, felt a little lighter.
'If only there was mead.'
Covertly touching the coin pouch tucked inside my clothes, I also thought of sweet mead.
*****
Canterbury. The heart of Kent. Unlike the wooden fortresses I had seen until now, it was a great city wrapped in hard, high stone. I was seeing them for the first time, but the people of Canterbury seemed not unfamiliar with us.
"Get lost, you barbarians!"
[Whizz- Ting!]
'Damn it.'
Had this guy actually practiced archery?
The arrow that flew from the high wall vibrated, blocked by my shield.
The vivid hostility and fear felt in the eyes of the people standing atop the wall. This was clear: those people had been victimized by Vikings many times before.
"Wasn't dialogue done with words, brother? Oh dear, I must have been mistaken! It was to begin with arrows first, was it?"
Ivar, who had stepped out before the wall with me and then hastily ducked behind my back, teased me.
'Damn.'
"I said get lost!"
[Whizz- Thunk!]
Thankfully, this arrow struck the ground a little way off, and I felt a sense of hopelessness.