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The road that the old Romans, along with local legionaries and Britons, had built stretched endlessly upward.
Beyond that horizon, that single line held power. Come what may, now that I sat upon the king's seat, I had to seize that power for myself.
"That place is Bebbanburg, my Konungr. It was once the home of the old Vernika and the Cyning of Northumbria."
Following Uhtred's words and gaze, tinged with a strange pride, I fixed my eyes on a far-off point. Indeed, it was a castle worthy of pride, flaunting its beautiful form.
"A fine place, Uhtred."
"Thank you, Konungr."
Leaving the bowing Uhtred behind, I urged my horse forward to see the castle's view in more detail.
[Purreuk- purureung- dagak- dagak-]
As my loyal horse, which heeded my wish with a swift gait, advanced, the castle's outline became sharper.
Because of the low ground and shore around it, the castle, which from afar seemed to float in the middle of the sea, sat alone upon a towering hill, quietly looking down upon its surroundings.
"Beautiful."
The 'demon-built long wall' that Sigurdeu had fussed over on the way was impressive, but to my taste, that castle was more beautiful. That wall was probably also a remnant of old Rome. Now that Northumbria was in my hands, wouldn't it be better to leave just enough to serve as a cultural relic long afterward and use its materials elsewhere?
At the castle's entrance, which drew ever closer, many people had come out.
Probably the city's influential families, heirs with some name of some lineage, and spies sent by the Picts and Scots to the north, and Strathclyde to the west.
Yet, more than all those people dressed as splendidly as possible, a single middle-aged monk in nothing but a loose gray-brown robe, watching this way with an anxious expression, stood out.
"Whoa- whoa-"
[Pururuk-]
At last, after calming my black horse, which disliked stopping because of its excited run, I alighted softly onto the ground and stood before the crowd, all of whom had kneeled and bowed their heads.
"Rise, people of Bebbanburg."
At my words, those who hurriedly straightened up each spat out pledges of fealty like "Bebbanburg shall answer the voice of the Konungr!" "Long live Konungr Helgi! Long live his kingdom!" but the middle-aged monk alone merely studied my face with anxious eyes and demeanor.
And, as everyone who stayed around me knew, I liked courageous men.
"What is your name, monk?"
"My name is Alquin, bishop of Lindisfarena."
"Ah— I see."
Lindisfarena.
The first victims of the first Great Expedition that rose against the cross in retaliation for the Saxon Massacre of Frankish Emperor Charlemagne.
"I see, Alquin. I am Helgi Ragnarsson, the Konungr."
"I know well, Konungr Helgi."
He bowed his head politely, showing his balding pate. I grasped his shoulder and raised him up.
"I did not seek your greeting. It seems we have things to discuss; let us first go inside together."
"I shall."
With every step I took inside, I saw people who cheered but could not hide their anxious eyes.
That day, Bebbanburg welcomed its new king.
*****
'Saint Aidan, Saint Cuthbert. Please, give strength to this unworthy servant...'
He had invoked the Lord and His Son, Jesus Christ, and then, as if that were not enough, summoned every saint of old Lindisfarne. Yet Alquin's heart seemed to be burning away.
"Sit comfortably, Bishop Alquin. You need not abase yourself before me."
The hand that offered him the seat seemed like the paw of a bear he had only heard of in rumors; if, by some mistake, he were struck by that hand, his aged body would never endure the force. Yet he had to overcome this fear, this pressure.
"Thank you, Konungr Helgi."
He moved his body, which was particularly uncooperative today, and with creaking limbs, he somehow succeeded in taking the seat the king before him had offered.
"Yes, I heard a brief account of the circumstances from Uhtred. But I called you because I wanted to hear it in your own words. Do you and I have something to discuss?"
His voice filled the space, reminiscent of the thunder he had heard one day when the storm raged fiercely. But the power in that voice was gentle, rousing the listener's spirit and easing the tension.
And yet his body trembled, probably because this man's inborn aura was simply too strong.
'He saw Æthelwulf of Wessex, saw Ælla and Osberht, those two scoundrels, but this is the first time he has seen such a man.'
Alquin, who had always lamented the Northmen and their misguided faith, customs, and culture, now found his lifelong worldview crumbling because of this Northman king who had appeared out of nowhere. With difficulty, he opened his mouth.
"That is correct, Konungr Helgi. After you achieved a victory worthy of legend, foolish and powerless people, fearing they might incur your wrath, have been wandering about."
He tried to maintain as calm a countenance as possible, but he could not help the trembling in his voice. He knew that the young king before him was strong, but would that physical strength be matched by spiritual strength? Would this man have the mercy and universal charity that the old wise kings and emperors had possessed? Could such beautiful virtues be expected of a heathen?
In truth, it was as if he were offering up his neck, but Alquin steeled his trembling heart.
"Lindisfarena is a small island, but already a great multitude of people are flocking there. This is a problem that will only worsen with time and will not resolve on its own. Therefore, with my poor wisdom, I have led this old body here to seek the mercy of the Konungr."
"Oh my."
Contrary to his worries that his head might be struck off at once, the giant neither flew into a fiery rage nor silently raised an axe. He merely frowned and rubbed his temple slowly, like most people do when faced with a troublesome problem.
After pondering this and that for a while, the Konungr of the Northmen let out a soft sigh, "Hoo—," and fixed Alquin with his beast-like eyes.
"I understand your concerns well, wise Bishop Alquin. It was a proper and timely concern to bring before me. I shall immediately dispatch my men to issue an order of pardon to Lindisfarena and its vicinity—to all who have fled there and all who wander in fear of reprisal for the recent battle—and have that fact proclaimed at every thoroughfare and in every city where many gather."
"Yes... yes? Thank you, Konungr."
To think he would agree so easily!
'Shamefully, I had intended to empty out the church's hidden slush fund I kept for worldly troubles.'
Alquin suddenly wondered, what if the situation had been reversed? If it had been Ælla and Osberht... no, could any lord who had been installed have shown mercy like this Northman Helgi? After having utterly crushed the enemy army?
Surely not.
Then, on what faith did this man base such a decision?
"Seutorolpeu! Are you outside?"
"I am, Konungr."
"You will need to take some trouble. Find Uhtred, the Earl of Bebbanburg, and my brother Sigurdeu, and tell them I need them now."
"It shall be done, Konungr!"
[Kung- kung- kung-]
He pressed his left hand to his temple and tapped the armrest of his chair with an Örn finger. Whether because his natural strength was so great, the sound of the tapping was like that of an ordinary man's fist.
Alquin, who had been deliberately avoiding that gaze because the eyes staring blankly into the void were too terrifying, found his head shrinking further when Helgi suddenly turned his head and fixed his eyes on him. Yet he listened fervently to the king's question.
"Listen, Alquin. I know nothing about your religion except that the son of the god you worship died nailed to a cross through the knavery of wicked men. So I ask you this: Is there a way for those who believe in your god and those who believe in my gods to coexist without fighting each other?"
"Pardon?"
Alquin was so startled for a moment that he lifted his head and stared at Helgi's face with wide eyes.
"I already know that your doctrine is strict. But in my kingdom, the law of men must be held higher than the doctrine of gods. For this is a kingdom of people, not a kingdom of the gods."
'Infidel...!'
The word 'infidel' nearly burst from his lips, but Alquin soon realized that the king before him truly was an infidel, a heathen, and strangely enough, a corner of his heart grew easy. He had not been betrayed, had he? This man was a born infidel, a Northman.
"I, a foolish man, find your words difficult to understand..."
"Is that so? Then I will tell you what you must do. Call me a heathen, call me an infidel—I do not care in the slightest—but cease all things that bring unnecessary bloodshed. I shall not hinder the faith of those who believe in the cross, so you shall gather quietly among yourselves and live in peace. Whether people believe in the cross or in the old gods, I desire only one thing from them: that they obey my word. Do you understand?"
'This man thinks of gods as pieces on his own board...!'
He was a dangerous man.
Every instinct of Alquin's screamed a mad alarm, but there was little that Alquin could do. He simply felt that he finally understood the Konungr before him a little. On the face of Helgi Ragnarsson, the new king of Northumbria, he fleetingly glimpsed the shadows of the great conquerors of old, those who had made men worship them wherever they set foot.
Not one who follows, but one who wields.
"If..."
Perhaps because he had seen the truth behind the mask, or because he had glimpsed the hidden cold reason beyond the fierce beast-like eyes, Alquin steadied his body, which no longer trembled, and asked:
"If, however grim it may be, there arise those who oppose the will of the Konungr, what should be done?"
"Hmm."
The eyebrows twitched, and a dangerous light lingered in the king's eyes. His expression and voice, as if he were smiling, even seemed thoroughly pleased.
"You need do nothing. I will find them myself."
"...I understand clearly."
Though he had succeeded in rescuing the monastery and the flock that had crowded into it, the footsteps with which he made his deep bow to the Konungr were heavy.
*****
'Harmony... harmony. Will it work?'
That bishop Alquin who had just left my room was truly a courageous man. So much so that I wanted to tell everyone around me to look at him and learn.
A true religious person who stands up for the weak. Even if he were a shaman who believed in the Chu-Chu faith of Africa, he would have earned my admiration all the same.
But the affairs of individuals and the affairs of groups are different.
Had not history proven the power of the doctrine of the cross? Of course, it was certain that I was in the middle of thoroughly ruining that history now, but...
'Rather than preventing rebellion, it is more correct to concentrate on crushing the rebellion that will someday arise.'
I could not control the thoughts and feelings of every human.
Even if the productivity of this land rose and life became gradually better, there would surely be those who thought differently, and at such times, religion could serve as a perfect pretext.
Whether they blended, or clashed entirely and came to wrack and ruin, either way, I would not see the clear picture until some time had passed.
I could not seize and kill all those who had fled to Lindisfarena, nor all those who had hidden themselves in the woods, marshes, and swamps. So for now, I left them be.
'Of course, unless I intend to convert outright to the cross, I must eventually overturn the old faith on a grand scale.'
Come to think of it, had I not heard that the temples in Árós were lately flooded with orders for the symbol of Hel? Already many warriors of the Angles, beginning with Uhtred, and especially those who had been present on the day the dragon's form was revealed, were rapidly becoming Hel's faithful.
'Odin, Thor, Frey...'
Gods do the work of gods, and men do the work of men.
'When I return to Árós, there will be much to do indeed.'
A religious reformation. A religious reformation to my own taste.
"Konungr Helgi, I heard you were looking for us."
"Ah, come in."
Uhtred's voice from outside the door fished me out of my reverie, but my mind was already brimming with thoughts of the gods.