42.
42.
In addition to the existing eight hundred warriors of Árós, the two Knyazes of Novgorod and Polotsk each provided one hundred and twenty men as an escort.
A total of twenty-six longships crossed the currents of Polotsk and headed toward the Dnieper River.
Since two Knyazes who knew this geography intimately were with us, we chose the shortest distance between the two rivers, turned the ships upside down and carried them, and crossed the land between the rivers.
Was it not astonishing? To carry ships and move them. This experience gave me a fresh perspective.
'So bigger is not always better.'
The wisdom of the ancestors, the wisdom of mankind, was truly marvelous, and I understood at once why Norsemen had roamed the entire world in such small ships.
A ship that conquered even the land—what absurd mobility.
Moreover, I had worried that there might be a problem or shortage of food for the Hugh troops, but the Dnieper River was extremely rich in fish resources.
Exaggerating just a little, if we had tried spear-fishing, the fish practically jumped onto the boat by themselves.
The elite warriors drafted from Novgorod and Polotsk were also skilled riverside fishermen and survival experts, and they were a tremendous help with our bivouac and food procurement.
This was why it was necessary to conscript locals in the field. They were reassuring beyond measure.
However, this rapid marching speed seemed strange to them as well; they were surprised at first, but soon they gathered together and whispered, glancing my way, or approached our warriors who had been excluded from guard duty and appeared to ask them various things...
As long as it was not rebellion, I intended to leave them to whatever they did. Because maintaining the warriors' morale on a long expedition like this was the most important thing.
Fortunately, the second month of winter (Ýlir) had begun, but the wind was not yet very strong, and the water on the path we were taking had not frozen. The true winter would begin from the third month, so we would have to watch a little longer.
Reflecting on my experiences so far, this was undoubtedly a mild winter. I had truly wrestled with it.
The Dnieper River flowed cool and broad—so much so that I thought, was it not the deepest and widest of all the rivers I had seen?
It was wide enough to operate a truly large-scale merchant fleet.
People from various riverside villages we passed along the way gathered to watch our longship fleet drift leisurely with the current, but now that we had a definite destination, we could not answer each of their greetings and silently sailed on downriver.
After repeating the cycle—sweating and laboring alongside the warriors, who by now were thoroughly seasoned at setting up temporary camps, camping when the sun set, and setting out at dawn—
At last, the warriors of Polotsk and Novgorod shouted toward the hill on the eastern side of the leisurely flowing river.
"Kiev! That is Kiev right there!"
*****
866 AD. The second month of winter. Sun's Day (Sunnudagr).
Since the previous day happened to be a bathing day, we who had camped out were in a relatively tidy state, and we anchored our ships not far from Kiev, which sat atop a high hill.
As I tidied my much-grown beard and combed my hair down, a refreshing coolness enveloped my face as though I had been reborn, but unfortunately, this was not the time to extol the culture of washing.
"Konungr Hrørekr! Jarl Miroslav! What brings you all the way to this distant place!?"
"Welcome! Konungr Hrørekr!"
As Varangians from Svealand, Haskuldr and Djur still heartwarmingly called the 'Knyaz' Rurik 'Konungr' Hrørekr, but for some reason their eyes wavered with an uneasy light.
'We seem to have been unexpected guests.'
Somehow their awkwardness resembled the expression of a person whose hidden secret was about to be found out.
"Ha-ha! Haskuldr! Djur! It has been a long time, my friends!"
Delighted to meet old comrades, Rurik let out a hearty laugh as he approached them, praised their efforts, and introduced our party once again.
"Now, this here is Konungr Helgi Ragnarsson of Árós. He is the strongest (Sterk) among us. He is also the one to whom I have sworn allegiance, so you must serve him without a single slip!"
"What...! Konungr Helgi, please accept my greeting! I am Jarl Haskuldr of this small, humble village, Kiev!"
"I greet you, noble one! I am likewise Jarl Djur of Kiev!"
It seemed they too had heard of my name, for they hastily bowed their heads toward me, hiding their eyes, which shook far more than when they had beheld Rurik and Mirosław.
"I am pleased to meet you thus, fine Jarls. I am called Konungr Helgi. I have built a close friendship with Konungr Hrørekr and Knyaz Mirosław here, and so I wish to grow familiar with you two Jarls as well."
"We are only grateful...! Konungr Helgi."
Come to think of it, the titles were a complete mess.
Since this was a more sensitive issue than one might expect, for now I had no choice but to let sleeping dogs lie...
Later, when I was confident of my influence over this region, it would not be too late to settle it all at once.
After all, I had not come here to swallow this vast land whole; I had business in Miklagard.
...
Though somehow, things were escalating.
"Please come in...! It is a small village with little to offer, but I will do my utmost to serve the great Konungr."
"Ale and bread will suffice. Then let us go in together."
"Yes...! Konungr!"
As the two Jarls scrambled up the hill, shouting at the villagers and guards who had been standing around gawking to prepare a feast, my party and I followed slowly behind them.
"Refil, Oleg. Order the warriors to finish disembarking not far from here, and let them take Hugh-style rations without relaxing the watch."
"Yes, understood."
"It will be done."
The two captains, who had dutifully accepted the quietly given order, hurried to where the warriors were gathered, and at the end of a path that was clearly swept amidst the powdery snow covering the village here and there, a typical large Norse longhouse finally revealed itself.
It was probably Haskuldr and Djur who had built a structure they were accustomed to. Everyone carried nostalgia for their homeland; they must have eased their loneliness in this fashion.
Though it was still bright daylight with the sun high in the sky, smoke was wafting up from the longhouse as the feast was hurriedly prepared, and people scurried about carrying livestock, bread, jars of ale, and the like.
I felt somewhat sorry for causing trouble, but the thick-skinned shamelessness on my face had long since reached an unshakable, diamond-hard state.
What was strange, however, was that while the faces of the people in Novgorod and Polotsk I had seen until now had shown wariness toward strangers, they had never displayed feelings of fear or terror, yet on the faces of the people here in Kiev, fear was plainly visible.
'They've been raided before, and relatively recently.'
"Knyaz Rurik, Mirosław. Whose sphere of influence did you say this area was?"
"This land was originally Khazar territory, but I've heard that recently the Magyars have also become entangled here."
"The Khazar dogs' domain is centered around Itill, far to the east. Lately, something seems to be going on. There have been reports that the frequency of their cavalry poking their faces in has decreased."
"In that case, the Magyars may have rushed in to fill that gap."
"That is correct, my Konungr. The territories of the Horse Riders, unlike our own, are constantly shifting, making them difficult to predict."
Hmm.
If I wanted to greatly expand and maintain the trade routes, Kiyiu, the place that commanded this waterway, would have to fall firmly under our influence.
But no. There was no need to rush.
I couldn't let myself paint too grand a picture. For now, I had to focus solely on Miklagard. I would hear the details from Kiyiu's master himself.
As I gathered my thoughts, we soon reached the top of a fairly high hill and stood at the entrance of a large longhouse. I then stepped into the cozy feast hall with a bright smile on my lips and my arms spread wide.
"Oh—! The smell of roasting meat! Haha! This is going to be a feast! My thanks, Jarl Haskuldr! Jarl Dir!"
"What words... Thank you, Konungr Helgi!"
"Please, come in!"
It was time to do a king's work.
*****
People often used the terms bread culture and rice culture. They were phrases used to illustrate the biggest difference between Europe and Asia... I wasn't sure why that divergence had occurred, but bread seemed to suit my palate better.
'This is pretty good.'
Was it because hunger was the best sauce? This bread was far more delicious than the hastily cooked meat, which had been hurriedly taken down from the ceiling and grilled before it had been smoked for long.
At first, the people had been burdened by my presence, as I strode in boldly and planted myself at the high seat as if I were the master of this place. But as I devoured food and drink in a frenzy, they finally seemed to relax and began to take their own shares and talk about what had happened in the meantime.
Talk of why contact had been so infrequent, talk of apology, talk of whether there were children, talk of whether the wife was well...
Amidst all those sounds, the expressions of Haskuldr and Djur remained uncomfortable, like puppies that had knocked over a flowerpot while their master wasn't looking.
So, I resolved their worries for them.
"Jarl Haskuldr, Jarl Dir. Is there something you are hiding from me?"
It was a rather grim thing to say for a man who had just stuffed a third piece of thick bread into his stomach and was sucking his fingers.
In an instant, silence fell over the hall where a soft melody had been playing, and the atmosphere of laughing and enjoying the feast vanished as if it had been a momentary mirage.
All eyes in the room settled on me, and Haskuldr and Djur quickly rose from their seats, prostrating themselves before me and pressing their heads to the floor. These men must have learned some very strange things in foreign lands.
[Jororuk—]
I took the two leather cups beside me and poured ale. It was a well-fermented drink with a very refreshing taste.
"Rise, Jarl Haskuldr, Jarl Dir. I have felt no insult at all."
I gestured once more for them to get up as they slowly raised their heads, then handed the cups to the hesitant pair.
"I do not intend to interrogate you, but rather to solve the problem. I will do you no harm, so set your minds at ease and drink this cup."
"K-Konungr. Thank you—no. We are sorry."
"Did I not say there is no need for that? Go on, drink."
"Yes, yes! Konungr!"
"Understood!"
I didn't know what they were thankful for or sorry about. As I watched them gulp down their drinks in a fluster, I soon gestured towards the skalds in the silent, deathly still feast hall.
"What are you doing? Has the merriment not been broken? Let the poets sing again, quickly."
"Y-yes...! Konungr!"
[Diring- Diriring- Diririring-]
"W-we drink to our youth—and to the days that will soon come and go—!"
Following the poet who sang with a slightly trembling voice, the people in the feast hall began to move like unoiled robots, going through the motions of eating and drinking. But it mattered little to me.
Since I had already eaten my fill anyway.
What was more important was the story these two men before me had to tell.
Toward the two warriors trembling like mice before a cat, I asked once more in a soft voice.
"Jarl Haskuldr, Jarl Dir. Though I am a stranger to this land, I have received your hospitality and wish only to help you. Now, can you tell me what is happening here?"
Again, the singing cut off abruptly and the atmosphere sank heavily.
Finally, in place of Haskuldr, whose head was bowed low, Djur spoke to me.
"It is because of the Magyars and the Khazars, my Konungr. What more can I report to you, my Konungr, who already sees through all things? The Magyars and the Khazars are waging a competition over our Kiyiu. No, to be precise, Kiyiu has been caught up in their competition."
"The Magyars and the Khazars..."
Certainly, the power of Novgorod and Polotsk was not great enough to influence Kiyiu, and even that had been weakened further by internal strife. Moreover, hadn't the lower reaches of this Dnieper River been Khazar territory in the first place?
What I was more curious about was this talk of competition between the Magyars and the Khazars. Why were these people, who even had similar names, fighting each other?
"Before you, Konungr, arrived, the son of that Magyar chieftain took away furs. So now, the Khazars will likely send their own people."
"No, if that is so, then why did you not ask me for help? Djur! I thought we were no different from brothers, save that our blood is not mixed...!"
Rurik, deeply shocked by the hardship his old comrade-in-arms was facing, cried out, but no answer came from Djur or Haskuldr. So I answered in their stead, for the two Jarls who kept their heads bowed.
"It is because, having settled here far from Novgorod, they began to think differently, Knyaz Rurik."
"Such..."
Rurik's words trailed off, unable to hide his hollow feelings.
But there was something I was even more curious about.
"Right, this son of the Magyar chieftain... what did you say his name was?"
"I shall tell you... Konungr Helgi. His name was said to be Árpád."
"Árpád... Árpád..."
I would have to speak with him. The landlord had changed, so the contract would have to change as well.