61.
61.
Anyone who had studied Korean history would have definitely heard those names. Military Chief and Heavenly Chief.
They were terms that appeared in the ancient history section, and given the Korean people's characteristic of studying that ancient history portion with a beginner's mind until the pages were worn to tatters, they were exceedingly familiar words.
It seemed the translator in my brain, whose operating principles I still could not fathom, had interpreted and rendered them in that manner...
As far as I knew, in a tribal government, the Military Chief held the military role, and the Heavenly Chief was more responsible for tending to and governing the people's souls.
'Ah, these fellows haven't achieved the union of religious and political authority yet.'
The moment I deduced that fact, I suddenly felt my vision go dark.
Just a few days prior, I had pushed through the utter chaos displayed by the most developed political system, the most advanced nation of the current world, and now some primitive tribal government system was appearing...
Could this truly be the same world?
"Ah... Military Chief Árpád..."
I trailed off due to the sense of disparity from such an enormous gap, and Haskuldr, interpreting it as a kind of displeasure, shrank back even further.
"So, where is he now? Did he have any particular request?"
"Usually, those Horse Riders set out to hunt before the sun rises and return around sunset, Konungr. I shall send a man to their village to confirm whether Árpád is present."
"Very well, then I shall leave it to you."
"It is my honor, Konungr."
As I strode forward with wide steps, lost in thought, the breathing of the warriors following behind me grew slightly rougher.
Beyond the shameless thought that climbing an uphill path was good exercise for their bodies and that they ought to thank me, the entire area of Kiyiu, which I looked down upon from the high hill, conveyed a separate delight to me.
'If I were Cao Cao, I would have composed a poem here.'
A river energetically winding its way, and the strange spectacle of differently shaped villages standing in layers.
Three different cultures gathered in one place—a kind of coexistence.
'Coexistence.'
After gazing at the scene for a moment, I turned and soon moved my steps inside the longhouse.
'Tribal government or not, they were a group where every villager could transform into a cavalryman at a moment's notice. Fighting was a poor policy; diplomacy was best.'
If fighting became necessary, I would do it, but it was true that our preparations were still inadequate.
In my mind, the horse tack the Emperor had personally handed me, the riding techniques of the Romans, and the hundred or so horses promised to be sent once summer arrived flickered, but soon I swallowed them down along with the mead that had been presented before me.
*****
"I am honored to meet you thus. Renowned warrior, Konunguru Helgi!"
'It's Konungr, not Konunguru... you little blockhead...'
Árpád was a monarch filled with fighting spirit, his eyes sharp and alive. He gave the impression of a hawk.
His build was moderate, but this warrior, clearly agile at a glance, wore a single-edged curved sword at his hip, held a helmet with feathers affixed to both sides so it looked exactly like wings tucked under his arm, and was draped in animal skins all over his body.
At a glance, he resembled a hunter, but the expensive red robe and shoes worn beneath those skins signified his status.
"The honor is rather mine. Great Military Chief of the Magyars, Árpád."
Árpád, whose eyes widened at my frame, which was a good three heads taller than his own, stared for a moment at my forearm extended before him, then soon seized my arm with a great laugh.
[Thump-!]
"Hahaha! The rumors do not even reach half of the reality...! Even the bears around the Dnieper River would not be able to confidently wager on a contest against you at this rate, Konunguru!"
'Just what kind of rumors are circulating...'
Árpád was proficient enough in the Rus tongue that he required no interpreter, though his pronunciation was inevitably somewhat awkward. Still, at this level, it was admirable.
Given that the Magyar language did not immediately surface in my mind, this translation ability seemed to have some kind of conditions.
Of course, since I was fluent in the Rus tongue, no particular issue arose with communication between us.
"Indeed, when I previously headed for Rome, I did leave word that it would be good if I could make contact with the one leading the Magyars... but I did not expect to be able to meet so quickly."
As I raised the cup set before each of us and drank its contents, casually broaching the subject, Árpád immediately replied.
"Would we Magyars be ignorant of news from the Steppe and beyond? We already know that a new master has appeared in the land of the Rus, so naturally, I must meet him!
And see, the words of the great Tengri and his Heavenly Chief, my father, were not wrong. For I have met a warrior like yourself, Konunguru."
Refreshingly emptying his cup, a whitish liquid was poured into it by his attendant from behind, and I wondered if that was the Mare's Milk Liquor I had only heard of.
"Konunguru Helgi. We Magyars do not desire many things. We simply move in search of land to feed our horses and fill our children's bellies; what other things could we possibly need?"
Though his words were magnanimous, Árpád's eyes were exceedingly calculating.
"We desire trade. Furs, horses, slaves, and provisions...! I have heard that you, Konunguru, are very close with Rome... could we perhaps have a hand in that trade?"
In the end, it was money. In the end, it was power.
What Árpád was saying, in simpler terms, was that he wished to gain greater profits in a larger market and thereby elevate his own standing.
Though as for what awaited at the end of that path, no one could know... but for now, I thought it best to conclude a light dispute with the Magyars at this juncture.
Because what we needed now was time.
The time needed for a massive trade route encompassing Northern and Eastern Europe to firmly establish itself, and for Kiyiu and Novgorod, situated along that route, to grow.
We could not afford unnecessary friction right now, nor was there any need for it.
"Rome, you say... Rome. I do have a few friends I made there... Now then, shall we discuss the details a little?"
At my words, Árpád smiled brightly and clapped his hands, and my eyes gleamed sharply, as if boring into his mind.
*****
Árpád and the tribe that followed him departed like the wind.
The three villages of Kiyiu became two villages in the blink of an eye, and in the place they left behind remained roughly fifty horses, which Árpád had left as a token of gratitude and trust.
Of course, I had also given him gifts such as furs and silver coins.
Since merchants who had come all the way from distant Árós were already trading with Cherson via Kiyiu, slipping a few of Árpád's nomadic friends onto a merchant ship was by no means difficult.
It also aligned with the intentions of Strategos Petronas and Damian, who essentially played a balancing role between the Khazars and Magyars...
For a while, it would be quiet. The winter had been warm, and food was plentiful. Besides, were not their real rivals the Khazars? The Bulgars beneath them would not keep just converting to religions forever either.
Of course, the political instability of nomads was famously told, so I did not know how long this peace would last.
At any rate, Haskuldr, worked up by my question about the future of Kiyiu, swore his loyalty once again.
'I had been asking sincerely... Did he take it as a threat?'
No matter how I thought about it, the territory that had come under me was too vast and far-flung.
It had somehow ended up this way... but from Northumbria in the west, all the way to this Kiyiu, which could practically be called the edge of Europe...
Had I not just witnessed the Empire's dilemma with my own eyes in Constantinople? A two-front war was nothing short of madness.
Since I had absolutely no desire to end up in such a state, whether Kiyiu wanted it or not... I had been planning to let it become independent someday, but because Haskuldr and Djur had even prostrated themselves flat before me, I did not press the matter any further.
As history would prove, once they felt their own heads had grown bigger and their own strength stronger, they would of their own accord break away... When that time came, I intended to let them go coolly. After all, by then, the trade routes would be firmly established and would have moved far beyond the point where any single individual could start or stop them at will.
'Yes... that was good enough...'
Yet, why did I feel so uneasy...
At any rate, the tense first encounter with the Magyars passed without incident. With only a few days left of the fourth month of winter, as the cold winds grew steadily less frequent, we once again took to the river.
Meanwhile, Constantinos, gradually growing accustomed to my larger-than-life presence, now followed me quite well, and despite the drastically changed surroundings, this cheeky little boy, who had turned eight this year, was bearing up bravely.
From my chief engineer Leon, who had taken pity on him, he learned various matters of theology and engineering. From Stolrolf, who unexpectedly showed a soft side with children, he learned various sports, the customs of the Norsemen, and how to handle horses.
Perhaps because he came from an extraordinary bloodline, Constantinos was clever.
Of course, he was still no more than a young child who sometimes sniffled in secret on star-filled nights. But I had a feeling he would improve more and more.
Thus, during that peaceful journey, though I had even gone on reconnaissance myself and chosen the relatively weaker spots...
As the ice was gradually melting, while we were strenuously overcoming a rapid stretch that seemed stronger than before, we encountered one of the 'Dnieper bears' that Árpád had spoken of.
The beast, which appeared to have awakened from hibernation early, looked somewhat dazed. When its eyes met mine, it immediately reared up onto its hind legs, trying to make itself look bigger.
[uwo- uwoeok-! ... ]
"..."
I had no particular hobby of starting staring contests with beasts, but for some reason its appearance was both cute and fascinating, so I kept watching. Eventually, the creature furtively turned its head and quietly stepped away in the opposite direction of our fleet, which was busy navigating the river and land.
'What, did I just win a staring contest with a bear?'
It was a bear slightly smaller than the North American grizzlies I had seen in documentaries, but it was still more than large enough.
Djur, who had chosen to enter my service rather than remain in Kiyiu, was especially astonished, but the other warriors of Árós now simply took it in stride with expressions that said, "Konungr has won again."
Another week of travel like that.
Now it was a season that seemed to carry a faint scent of spring.
867 AD. The fifth month of winter. February 16th on the Julian calendar.
After roughly two months, our fleet, now considerably larger than when we had set out, reached the lake city of Novgorod.
*****
"Konungr Helgi! Oleg! ... Djur...! I bid you all a heartfelt welcome! Please, come inside! Novgorod is yours!"
Compared to two months ago, Novgorod was brimming with vitality.
Though it was still winter, the first reason was that the fearless merchants of Árós had continued to ply the unfrozen waterways of the Baltic Sea.
Thanks to that, the elderly worried less about food, and the provocations from the western tribes, which had been like an annual event, disappeared as well—so it was a happy ending, I supposed.
The peculiar thing was that all over the city, adults and children alike were hurling wooden sticks and stones, or swimming with sheer willpower through the still-cold waters...
Somehow, they had become extremely earnest about physical activity.
The women watched such men with flushed faces, and the old folk gathered together, cheering someone's name and merrily passing the winter.
"Ah, they are preparing for the next tournament, Konungr. More than a few have vowed to seize victory this time! Polotsk will taste bitter defeat in this tournament...!"
'But I had no such plan yet...'
Though the people were enthusiastic, Rurik—who I thought was the most enthusiastic of all—shouted full of fighting spirit with an even healthier complexion, and at his words the people of Novgorod, who had been milling around our party for no particular reason and gawking at me and my warriors, responded fervently.
"Absolutely! We'll definitely kick the backsides of those Polotsk bastards this time!"
"Novgorod! Novgorod! We-shall-tri-umph-! Long live Hel! Long live Perun!"
Of course, the Árós warriors, including Stolrolf, were inwardly sneering, but they also seemed... to feel a slight sense of crisis.
'Hmm... should I hold such tournaments regularly after all? Have regional qualifiers... bring in Bamburgh, Jorvik, Kiyiu, and if all goes well even Cherson... and rotate a grand tournament among the cities once a year?'
Of course, I only ever painted the big picture. The capable staff who had actually managed the first tournament would have to take charge of this.
I furtively turned my head to look at Refil and Oleg; the two capable administrators were desperately avoiding my gaze while simultaneously demonstrating the art of glaring at Rurik.
"Now, please come in first! Konungr! As the sowing season draws near, we were just preparing a festival!"
Rurik, his face beaming, invited me to the longhouse.
Seeing the faces of the people who shouted my name and 'Konungr' with bright smiles, I felt a certain satisfaction that my efforts the previous winter had not been in vain.
"Very well, let's do that."
Then, having relaxed, I enjoyed Novgorod's hospitality for another two days.
In the peace that had come after so long, just as I was getting drowsy from mead and comfort.
With a sudden deafening roar, something brilliant hurtled across the night sky, piercing through the heavens far beyond Novgorod, over the Baltic Sea and the lands beyond.