156. Festival and Sacrifice (2).
156. Festival and Sacrifice (2).
What cosmic force was this now?
It was such completely unexpected news that for a moment my brain refused to think.
My face, which had turned unnaturally as though producing a 'kkigigeok-' sound, turned toward Hrolf. Hrolf shrugged as if he knew nothing of it, then spoke in a tone that suggested it was no bad thing anyway.
"It is an unexpected outcome, but I do not think it will harm the Fylkir. It feels as though Jarl Miroslav, Jarl Leon, and Jarl Eret lent their strength generously, but it is a rare thing for matters to go exactly as planned. You will have to hear the full story directly to understand."
He was not wrong.
Even in my own case, when I embarked on the second expedition to Britain, I had not imagined I would also sort out the Kingdom of Strathclyde and the Kingdom of Scotland. When a situation arose, you had to assume that the existing plan was being completely discarded.
Besides.
As the experienced Hrolf said, there was not a single thing that was actually to my detriment. In the first place, I was the one who had told them to do as they pleased, and I was the one who had permitted a gathering with the not-very-funny name of the 'Marmaros Council.'
In the end, if you traced things back to find responsibility, at the tip of that finger you only found my handsome face.
Hrolf had likely been reminding me of that fact again.
"Why don't you meet them. I have heard and seen much of the north... At this time of year, with winter just ahead, for Sámi chieftains to move is not something that can be done with a light heart, Fylkir."
Hrolf recommended this in a calm voice, bowing his head.
I met eyes with Björn, Ivar, Konungr Halfdan, Olaf, Bagsecg, Rurik, and Ubba, who were all seated together, but none of them showed opposition or looked uncomfortable.
'I had forgotten for a moment. By nature, my men are no strangers to plunder and war.'
Rather, had I been the one suppressing that belligerence?
My heart growing heavier, I nodded.
"That is right. Let us meet them. We shall hear directly what thoughts prompted the friends from beyond the northern mountains and the eastern sea to act. The messenger who came from afar should rest well. And when the sun rises tomorrow, inform Jarl Eret that I wish to meet the chieftains of the Sámi and Suomi."
"Yes! Fylkir! I shall do so!"
[Chak!]
Marble. In truth, although it was a rock that ought to be written with the character for 'rock' rather than 'stone,' for various reasons it had become marble—a white rock.
Because of that pristine white beauty, it was fated to spill red blood.
If no one had known from the start, it would be one thing, but now everyone had caught on that there was something valuable in Karelia. It might be better to end it quickly and cleanly.
Would the others stay still if I said I was washing my hands of it now? No, thinking more coolly, did I have any obligation to the Karelian Finns?
Being a definite villain rather than a clumsy saint would be the way to spill less blood on both sides.
I hardened my heart and pressed firmly on my throbbing temples.
*****
After the sudden meeting of key figures the previous night, the sixth day of the Great North Sea Games dawned.
Indeed, the theory of relativity proved by Professor Einstein was a natural law that applied even in this age, so even those who had grumbled about how slowly time passed while harvesting all day were now lamenting that time was flying by too quickly.
[Beolkeok- beolkeok-]
Among them was my brother Halfdan, who had been guzzling beer since morning. For some reason, as the end of the games drew nearer, he grew more anxious and fearful, as if he wished this time could last forever.
"Damn it, Helgi. My most beloved and cherished brother Fylkir. Great one! Can't you add a few more events? Can't this festival go on all winter!?"
What kind of talk was this now?
'He hadn't eaten any bread since morning, just downing beer—had he already gotten drunk?'
Thinking it might be drunken nonsense, I looked into his eyes; his pupils were clear and only a little bloodshot—the eyes of a perfectly sober man.
That made it even more frightening—he was saying that with a clear head, wasn't he?
"Halfdan. What on earth are you talking about?"
"Haa— you know nothing, Helgi."
"... What?"
At my complete failure to follow Halfdan's conversation, Halfdan heaved a deep sigh, and Sigurdeu, sitting right next to him, paused midway through eating his meal of meat and cabbage and let out a nasty giggle, 'keuk-keuk—'
At that knowing look, I stabbed the chicken on my wooden plate with a silver fork and asked without reason.
[Puk—!]
"... Sigurdeu. Why is Halfdan like that?"
"Ah— the sad name, the name of 'husband'! Keuk-keuk."
While I was debating whether to whack Sigurdeu's head with the chicken as he was about to break into song in the middle of eating, Sigurdeu hurriedly continued in a singsong manner.
"I cannot give a detailed explanation, but I have heard that in Roskilde and Ribe, a man's sorrowful screaming could be heard every night...! A terrifying story...! That wailing, which had been resounding without a day's rest, has quieted down now that the festival is here! What a cause for celebration that is...!"
Sigurdeu's dramatic voice and description made me a bit dazed, but it was enough to grasp the underlying meaning.
"... Halfdan."
But whether I should call this pitiable... In a way, wasn't it happiness? Botilda had certainly given off a wolfish aura; she was no joke.
"This is all your fault! Æthelthryth and Inga both got pregnant...! I, I haven't had a single day of rest...!"
The desperate sincerity in his agonized voice.
Even Sigurdeu, who had been giggling before him, grew solemn. Sigurdeu and I exchanged a silent look and had no choice but to transfer some meat from our own shares to Halfdan's plate.
"Here, eat plenty and cheer up."
"That's right! Who are you? You're Hvitserk, Halfdan! A saga is being composed for you!"
"I don't need any of this!"
Halfdan pretended to vehemently refuse, but even so, he could not bring himself to reject the meat that had been placed on his plate.
Halfdan's contradictory air of happy(?) dread continued until the older brothers began to appear at the table one by one.
"Good morning, brothers."
"What's this, why is the atmosphere so gloomy?"
Both Björn and Ivar were already separated from their wives by death.
Unable to whine even before these two older brothers who were of similar age and shared his plight, Halfdan waved his hand dismissively as if nothing were wrong. Unlike Ivar, whose eyes sparkled with curiosity, Björn merely nodded in silence and seemed to let it pass.
Ivar, probably, would pester him for details once this was over. What kind of crazy talk would issue from that second brother's mouth next, I could not guess, but now I was a little curious.
Ubba, the most diligent and filial of the brothers, had eaten breakfast with both mothers and gone out for a light walk since early dawn.
The sight of the other five good-for-nothing brothers shuffling awkwardly toward the long table was both funny and gave me a brief, bittersweet feeling that settled on my chest for a moment before vanishing.
'Halfdan. I wish this moment could last forever too.'
But time flowed ever forward, unconditionally. Even in the distant future of the 21st century, no one had found a way to turn back time. All I could do, in the end, was give my best to the present.
"Halfdan says he's having trouble with the night work."
As I casually dropped that bomb, the knot in my stomach from last night's sudden work stress seemed to loosen a little.
"Pfft!"
"Ugh—disgusting."
"What!? Is that true!?"
Halfdan, struck by the surprise blow, spewed beer, and Sigurdeu across from him recoiled in disgust.
Björn, who pretended not to but actually loved lewd stories and behind-the-scenes gossip more than anyone, pricked up his ears, and Ivar leaned his whole body toward Halfdan.
"Good heavens..."
"That's not it! Damn it! Do you know how strong I am!? I'm all bulging and standing up! Want to see!?"
The Jute heir, enraged by his brothers' half-teasing, half-concerned stares, climbed onto the table and tried to pull down his trousers.
We laughed loudly, stopped him, and made the beet-red Halfdan sit back down, then kept on laughing.
"And, I'm thinking of entering the swimming competition. Anyone want to join me?"
At my next words, the brothers stopped laughing and exchanged glances.
It was a bit impulsive—last night's work stress had been too sudden—but I'd actually been thinking, 'Should I try entering at least one myself?'
It looked fun, and, while it sounded a bit like a line from a boys' manga, I also wanted to show a cool side of myself to Inga, who had never once seen my true strength.
Above all, the concern in Inga's expression when she'd worried about me during the oar-jumping competition had been so deep and intense. More than anything, I wanted to set her heart at ease.
So, sorry, but I intended to smash them all to pieces.
Guthrum, being of high rank, had been the first to participate and had opened the door nicely. And I had already spoken with Hrolf, Oleg, and Refil.
[Clatter—]
"Well, well—didn't I tell you? I am not only Konungr of all bards, but also the fish's closest friend."
Sigurdeu set down his cutlery with a greasy gesture, expression, and voice, acting all arrogant. A man who claimed to be the fish's closest friend loved grilled fish that much?!
" 'Fish's closest friend,' he says, while walking around with a snake in his eye. I guess you haven't heard this tale, but in Ribe so many people asked me if I was not Ragnarr's son but Njord's son—Njord, the god of the sea—that it gave me a headache. Helgi is Styrkr on land, but on the sea, who knows. I shall become the Konungr of the sea...!"
'Is he for real? Does he honestly think he can beat me?'
'Ridiculous. Truly ridiculous. You foolish brothers. Especially these two—teabagging is a certainty.'
"... Well, I've seen Helgi dive, and—"
"Diving and swimming are different! Saying such weak things shows you've gotten old too, brother!"
"... Do your best."
Björn and Ivar smiled faintly and finally started eating their own food, and through the noise of Sigurdeu and Halfdan boasting about how well they could swim, I saw Ubba, who had gone out for a walk, enter together with both mothers and the daughters-in-law of the Ragnarrsson household.
The sight of family gathered in one place.
Soon there would be two more.
Feeling a warm, ticklish sensation in my chest, I etched this scene into my memory. So that I would never forget it for the rest of my life.
*****
"Warriors of Karelia—!"
At the same moment.
Karelia. Sortavala.
The focal point of the Karelian Finns on the shores of Lake Ladoga.
Takala's land, where an unexpectedly fervent response had gathered as many as six hundred warriors.
Feeling his heart swell, Grand Chief Takala of Karelia cried out in a powerful voice.
"Descendants of Ukko and Kuu! Warriors of the great bear! The time has come! The festival of blood offered to the gods draws near!"
"Ukko! Ukko! Ukko!"
"Kuu! Kuu! Kuu!"
In truth, Takala's heart was complicated as he sacrificed a deer upon the tall, piled-up platform.
It was deeply moving that, under his summons, a vast number of warriors—unprecedented anywhere—had assembled, but this also meant that the tribes of Karelia were likewise starving for plunder.
The fact that the harvest this year was very poor meant that war would inevitably break out.
The one mercy, perhaps, was that they had made the first move. Of course, they had not yet attacked directly, but Takala had no intention of waiting.
He had no leisure for that either.
"Those who shared the cup and swore an oath with me! Warriors who ate the flesh of the prey together and staked your heads! Let us go! Let us show the brutes who dare covet this sacred land what we are made of! Burn and plunder! Let the hunt begin—!"
[Shrrng— Chang!]
The blade flashed, catching the full sun, as if Ukko, ruler of the sky, was pouring down his blessing.
Takala sensed victory.
And it must have been the same for the Karelian warriors beneath him, who bellowed with all their might, consumed by a reddish madness until their eyes were bloodshot.
'Fellow kinsmen. Fellow descendants of Ukko. Do not blame me.'
The Karelian warriors charged forth like lightning, not shaming the name of the god they served.
☆☆☆☆☆Reference Material☆☆☆☆☆
Janitoalevic, CC BY-SA 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0>, via Wikimedia Commons
This is the situation in the land of Suomi beyond the East Sea (the Baltic). Sortavala lies on Lake Ladoga, and the marble-producing area of Ruskeala is beside Lake Yanisyarvi to the north of it hehe.
The Suomi friends are at the stage of moving on a national scale...! Karelia, having the advantage of being more centralized, has moved first...!
You can see that the distance to Novgorod is not as great as you might think... It's a large, well-watered good land, but at this time (the 860s) it's all a swamp. All of it.
It's not for nothing that development was centered on the coast... ㅠㅠ
Between Novgorod and Sortavala, where the long bay ends, the city of St. Petersburg will later be founded hehe.