14.
14.
My impression of Rendlesham was... a somewhat larger Dover.
Here and there, wooden houses were visible, and the manure smell peculiar to farming land and the sounds of livestock stimulated the sense of smell and hearing — that kind of place.
And amidst this peaceful scene, strangers arrived.
The Norsemen, with dust and dirt smeared all over their bodies, gathered in clusters and entered the village. And the people of Dover watched them. Among them, the elderly elders and the hot-blooded men showed wariness toward us (a few women even sent flirtatious glances, surprisingly enough...), but the children simply gazed at these big, strange-speaking people with nothing but curiosity in their eyes.
So while we observed them and they observed us,
a large building utterly incongruous with this friendly farming and fishing village appeared before Ivar and me.
"Hwi-yu— I heard it was a village with nothing at all, but your modesty is too much? Sigebryht."
Ivar, who was walking at the very front making idle chat with Sigebryht about the weather and wives, reacted first, and I, who had been guarding the surroundings with the escort following behind, also saw the great hall set on a square plot of land.
Like our longhouses, it was an impressive building with a curved roof that arched like an upturned ship.
Seeing such things, there were indeed many culturally similar aspects.
"Sadly, it is merely the glory of a distant past."
While the Norsemen grew a little excited at the sight of the large building, Sigebryht, who had maintained a calm demeanor, paused the party for a moment and guided them back inside, saying,
"It is the royal palace where the Cyning of the old Wuffingas family once resided. Though now it has been reduced to a villa that Edmund occasionally visits. According to stories passed down, it easily accommodated a hundred men, but now we do not have the capacity to serve that many at once..."
Well, there would hardly be a building that could hold our entire vanguard all at once.
Reluctantly, Ivar and I roughly picked about twenty escorts to enter with us, and the rest of the men decided to wait in a large clearing next to the king's palace, so long as they didn't cause any trouble. Fortunately, we secured provisions for them to eat while they waited.
I would prefer they didn't cause trouble, but I didn't expect these hot-blooded, adventurous Norsemen to sit still. Unable to suppress their mercantile instincts, they would probably buy something with the silver coins they had tucked away, or conversely, sell something in exchange for silver. I only hoped they would not cause any major incidents.
"Well then, please enter."
"Let's go! The smell of meat is wafting all the way out here!"
Crossing through the heavy timber door, a vast space greeted us that seemed to care little for lighting. Torches and oil lamps hung here and there along the walls gave off a tranquil feeling even though the sun was still high in the sky.
On the elevated dais where a throne would originally have been, only a single flower was placed, and the decorative cloth suspended from the ceiling above the long table bore no pattern at all.
'Looks like they've cleared away all the crosses somewhere?'
Whether it was the flower placed exactly where a cross would have been, or the decorative cloths that strongly felt brand new. I had heard it was Edmund's villa, but now that the owner had changed, Sigebryht seemed to have removed everything.
Following Sigebryht's guidance, we took our seats centered on Ivar, who sat at the highest place of honor, and the palace servants placed food before us.
'Are they servants? Or slaves?'
The pig roasted over a large fire gave off a fragrant aroma that needed no particular spices. The stomach lining, which had barely eaten anything since morning, rumbled faintly, and when the fermented grain drink soon came out, we each picked a piece that caught our fancy and began to chew.
'Mm—.'
The meat melted in the mouth and was utterly delicious. They say hunger is the best sauce, but this was simply the outstanding taste of well-roasted meat itself. This pig must have grown up happily.
I subtly raised my head and looked around; everyone had ignored the bread and salt placed perfunctorily beside the meat and concentrated solely on the golden-brown flesh.
'Now that I think about it, I should introduce cutlery like forks and knives someday.'
I already had my household in Árós use expensive silver eating utensils (as you know, I'm a real estate magnate), but spreading that culture was taking longer than expected.
The reason for systematically using utensils was clear. It was much cleaner and lowered the chance of getting sick. And once you got used to them, they were far more convenient, and above all, pleasing to the eye... I wished everyone would start using them.
Still, starting with my brothers, more and more people were finding my various crafted items fascinating and using them, so I had to maintain hope that things would gradually change.
After that, the meal continued with nothing but eating and drinking. There were no women casting furtive glances, no warriors consumed by hostility and righteousness, nor a messenger suddenly bursting through the door with unimaginable news. There was only the food and the people eating it.
Yet at the same time, this was the most important ceremony for the people of Rendlesham. For the ceremony of bread and salt meant not only that the host would do no harm to the guest, but also the reverse.
"Hrruk— hrrurruk—"
Wagu— wagu—
Among the warriors who were sucking even the grease on their fingers without a trace, Sigebryht, who had finished his meal first, leaned slightly toward Ivar and me and passed on a great deal of information.
The expectation that Wessex would react in some way soon, the likely location of Edmund, the story that East Anglia, originally divided north and south, would now be divided east and west.
As I watched quietly, I realized this calm-featured Angle was full of ambition inside.
'That works in our favor.'
Whatever the man wanted, if it helped our purpose, this was no time to be picky.
In enemy territory, you had to use whatever help was available. Thinking of the host of Björn, Halfdan, Sigurdeu, and Ubba that would soon be surging forward, this place, East Anglia, was a far more strategic hub than the small village of Dover down below.
Whether Ivar realized this fact or not, as he listened attentively to Sigebryht and eagerly chimed in, his eyes were full of other thoughts. As, of course, was my own mind.
'If he's alive, we must negotiate with Edmund or eliminate him.'
For advancing into Northumbria, the Kent region where Dover lay was no longer of great importance. There seemed no further need to needlessly provoke the quiet Wessex... However, East Anglia must remain as a solid rear base, so we absolutely had to secure it.
Probably soon, Edmund would have to make a choice. Whether to die, or whether to live.
*****
Rendlesham adapted to the presence of us Norsemen faster than expected, and the women of Rendlesham were surprisingly forward. I considered myself fairly perceptive, but so many of my comrades-in-arms had secretly slipped under the skirts of Rendlesham women!
'Though it looks closer to being devoured.'
It was not an excess of self-consciousness or patriotic pride. The Angle women, who seemed to score our warriors fairly highly for being unusually partial to cleanliness and attentive to grooming, actively approached them.
'Just look at that scene now...'
In particular, Seutorolpeu, the super rookie of my personal Árós unit, the Garmr Brotherhood, seemed to draw the gaze of many women with his blond hair and blue eyes, solid body, and robust physique. Watching the sorry sight of him bashfully accepting a pure white flower offered to him and stealthily holding hands made an inexplicable rage rise up inside me.
'Why am I...?'
No, no matter what, there is a dignity to uphold, but as a man, aren't there things you secretly hope for?
Wasn't there a single fine young maiden? Why did no one approach me? I was even taller and bigger than Seutorolpeu, and far better at fighting.
"Do not be too disheartened, Jarl Helgi."
While I was having these childish, regressively infantile thoughts to myself, Hrolf's voice, as if he had seen right through that base inner feeling, made me startle like a puppy bitten by a bee, but I pretended to be untroubled.
"I do not know what you mean, Hrolf."
"The women, I mean. The truth is, while I and the brethren of Árós have grown accustomed to seeing the Jarl always, you possess an overwhelming dignity that common folk find difficult to approach. So they probably find it hard to come near you easily."
Since he was practically a father figure who had watched me grow from infancy, it was hard to hide anything from him.
"...You speak strange nonsense. I am not disheartened by such trivial matters."
"Of course not. Consider it the idle meddling of an old man."
Looking at Hrolf, who smiled faintly, I noticed new wrinkles on his face that had not been there before.
"How many times has the Thing sent people to you, Jarl? The number of families seeking a marriage alliance with the Jarl is so great it gives one a headache."
"Since when has the Thing been discussing my marriage? Do they have so little to do?"
"There is hardly anything else to discuss. Since Asta settled into her role, no great problems have occurred. Whose goat trampled whose field, a lost bear came down from the mountain... Sometimes I feel as though Árós alone is disconnected from this chaotic world. Like a realm of the gods you would only hear of in the stories my grandmother told me when I was young."
"Hrolf's grandmother. That sounds like a very old story."
"Hahaha! Everyone has a mother and a grandmother. Yes, it is an extremely old story."
This grizzled warrior had stood beside me in the battle against Edmund and fought more bravely than anyone. But as we spoke now, I thought it would be best if this wily, fox-like old retainer never took to the battlefield again.
"The Thing of Árós is practically the Jarl's subordinates, so you can ignore them forever if you wish, but Asta is gradually losing her patience."
'Damn it.'
"That matter... I will have to go back and listen to Mother's words."
If Mother told me to marry, I would have to do it. To ponder love and romance, this world was far too early. Still, if I could use a little aegyo well, perhaps I could delay it a bit longer.
"Also, I have given a firm scolding to a few of the fellows who caused trouble. Probably because they were comrades who had rolled roughly out in the east, they couldn't control their hot blood. I thought you should know, so I am telling you."
Hrolf, who had been laughing warmly with a heo-heo, had his expression darken in an instant.
The warriors who had tasted blood, especially the veterans who had rolled with Ivar and the Slavs far in the east, were extremely belligerent and brutal. This meant that the hand they used to handle those who bowed their heads was very rough.
Since they had lived that way, they would consider it natural to sell the defeated into slavery and take women by force.
But my will to stop such actions of theirs was also natural. If we sold off and killed those who had cooperated with us of their own accord, who in this land would welcome us? That was something that did not help Father's revenge in the slightest.
"It can't be helped. Still, it's a relief that we found out before it became a big problem."
When he said he gave them a good scolding, it probably meant he had a man-to-man talk. He might be knocked flat in one blow by me, but Hrolf, whom my father had personally appointed as Mother's and my protector, was not some soft warrior you could casually kick aside on the road.
"The moment the Jarl's name left my lips, they all became uncommonly polite. I shall have to make frequent use of it in the future."
"..."
'So he was selling my name... I thought you had taken care of it with your own hands...'
"... Feel free to use it anytime."
"It is an honor."
Seutorolpeu, who had disappeared somewhere holding the hand of a woman who seemed not shy but pretending to be shy, reappeared with a face flushed bright red and his nostrils flaring slightly.
'Oh, gees.'
Seutorolpeu, waving a goofy hand toward the departing woman while smiling with his eyes. The Angle and Norse men who were watching the scene from afar gathered together, giggling and pointing fingers.
'They were unintentionally becoming one.'
"It seems we shall have to increase the training of our Garmr Brotherhood. Looking back on the last battle, I think I pushed out too far alone, and I would like it if you could provide firm support from behind. What do you think, Hrolf?"
"You speak the truth, Jarl Helgi. Especially the son of Oreum, Seutorolpeu, is a warrior of outstanding future promise, so he will need tempering."
"I have always said, haven't I, that sweat spilled in training reduces the blood spilled in real battle."
"I shall make them spill blood in training."
"Keke-"
"Keulkeulkeul-"
The thing that ruined our leisurely moment while we shared wicked thoughts and laughed was the messenger who appeared riding a horse obtained from who knows where.
The messenger, who arrived with a guide that seemed to have been assigned by Guthrum, announced the coming of my brother, Sigurdeu.