71.
71.
Halfdan and his betrothed, Botilda (Bóthilda), arrived first.
"Halfdan!"
"Haha! Brother! You're looking hale! This is the woman who will be my wife, Botilda!"
"I am honored to meet you. Konungr Helgi Ragnarsson."
Botilda, was it...
The word 'Bót' was an exceedingly ancient term, known to few even among the Northmen. This word, with its slightly prolonged 'ó' sound, meant 'son.'
It was a name that clearly revealed the earnest wish of Konungr Bagsecg of the Jutes, who, unlike my own father, had struggled to bring forth a son.
Though I had heard that Bagsecg never revealed that personal regret to his child, instead treating Halfdan as his own son and doting upon him.
'Could infertility even exist in this age?'
The typical Norse beauty with a radiant smile had brown hair, and blue eyes that matched Halfdan's green eyes well.
Meeting Botilda for the first time, this textbook example of a Norse noblewoman was, initially, startled by my height and the height of Inga standing beside me.
That was the first expression most people wore when they saw giants like us.
"I am pleased to meet you as well. Botilda. This is the woman who will be my wife, Inga."
"Jarl Halfdan, Botilda."
Inga's figure, as she bowed her head with slightly reddened cheeks at my words, was... I felt a little apologetic about it, but she was so beautiful that even the image of Botilda, whom I had just seen, was erased from my mind.
But as the host, I could not very well keep a guest standing outside forever. Collecting myself shortly, I guided my brother and his future wife, and our steps moved toward the longhouse.
The path, not far from the wharf, had been meticulously paved and drained with great care within the city proper, and Botilda looked a little surprised by how immaculately clean it was. The funny thing was, beside her, even Halfdan—who was setting foot in Árós for the first time in a long while—was amazed by the road heavily laid with stones and gravel.
"Laying down stones like this makes it feel something rather different? It feels much easier on the feet."
"You dig the ground, set stones with one side smoothed flat on top, fill the gaps with gravel... It's a piece of work that takes a good deal more effort than it looks."
"Really? So it wasn't just a matter of roughly driving in a few stones?"
Halfdan and Botilda's expressions shifted simultaneously from one that said, 'Should we make one at our house too?' to one that read, 'Turned out to be nothing more than a bothersome task after all.' This couple, who had been together longer than Inga and I, soon traded playful looks with each other.
At that moment, the thought occurred to me that their marriage might not be a mere political alliance.
'Lovey-dovey over here, too. Well then, I can't exactly let myself be outdone.'
[Shhk-]
On my right arm was Halfdan and Botilda, and on my left was Inga.
I stealthily moved my left arm and linked elbows with Inga, and the way she wrapped around my arm seemed very pleased.
We had been busy with festival preparations and unexpectedly wedding preparations besides, so such intimate time had been lacking.
However, perhaps because we were too close to hide such a covert movement, it was caught on the radar of Halfdan, whose senses were annoyingly sharp.
Naturally, as a member of our brothers, among whom—save for Ubba—there was not a single one who wasn't a mischievous rogue, Halfdan immediately tossed out a teasing joke.
"Careful, brother. You mustn't have physical relations before the wedding. Right, Hilda?"
"Halfdan..."
Halfdan waggled his eyebrows up and down and smirked at Hilda with a greasy grin, and Botilda, as if she couldn't resist the ridiculous sight, cracked a smile.
Thanks to the two of them giggling, the flush on Inga's face deepened and she clutched my left arm more tightly, which left my heart immensely satisfied.
"Right, you do have to be careful. Though Sigurdr's view seemed a little different."
"Ah— Sigurdr. The bravest of all our brothers...!"
Still in a giggling state, Halfdan took up my words. This lively brother then shook his head slightly, as if perplexed by the madcap thoughts of Sigurdr himself.
"Though I've spent the most time with that fellow among our brothers... I still can't figure out what goes on inside his head. He always said he'd never marry in his life, and then suddenly a pregnancy? By Hel, good heavens. It's good for me too, since it means I can marry Hilda a little sooner, but... Ah— I'm worried about that rascal."
Only moments after teasing me to his heart's content, it seemed the sight of Inga and me had looked good to him. Halfdan, having now linked elbows with Hilda on his own right arm, shook his head in a tone of exceedingly exaggerated acting, as if deeply heartbroken. Playing along, I posed a question.
"Why? Because of Mother?"
"Exactly! Because of Mother. I sometimes think my mother can breathe fire straight from her heart. Since you grew up under the wise and benevolent High Priestess, Mother Asta, you probably don't know, but on the day my mother truly gets angry, Father would immediately start packing his bags. I'm serious, this isn't a story I'm telling for laughs."
"Heh-heh. Enough, Halfdan. Who speaks ill of their mother like that in front of the woman who is to be their wife?"
Botilda and Inga, thinking it was a joke, suppressed their laughter, while I, who roughly knew the truth, and Halfdan, who had forged himself for years beneath a dragon's breath, both wore slightly awkward expressions. But soon, we had no choice but to grin brightly.
Because as we walked, laughing and chatting, we had arrived at the entrance of the longhouse where I dwelt with my two mothers before we knew it.
"Halfdan, Botilda. By the gods...! Hilda, you've become even more beautiful...!"
"Drottning Áslaug, Botilda sends her greetings. Drottning Asta, I hope you have been at peace."
"Botilda, welcome. The Goddess smiles upon your visit."
"Thank you, Asta."
The dragon (Áslaug), who had yet to seize her desired prey, concealed her smoldering thoughts and greeted us with a beaming smile.
Inside Halfdan's awkward, bitter smile, Áslaug sensed something was amiss, but fortunately, my stepmother said nothing in particular and gently embraced her son and prospective daughter-in-law.
Though of course, she must have harbored a blaze inside that could swallow a man whole...
After those light greetings, it was family time, a rarity amid the frantically busy days.
We were laughing, 'ha-ha, ho-ho,' exchanging all sorts of old stories, and in the warm and friendly atmosphere, beneath the table, I was secretly holding Inga's hand.
That was when Refil, who had been tracking the movements of Konungrs and Jarls from all over, quietly entered and notified us that Björn was departing from Uppsala, and that Sigurdr and Ubba would also be coming along with our eldest brother.
The moment our eyes met, Halfdan and I simultaneously looked at Mother Áslaug, and we soon beheld the sight of our mother. Like a count from the Asura realm split not side-by-side but top-and-bottom, her lips were curved in a bright smile, but a vein bulged on her forehead and her eyes had transformed, keen and sharp, like those of a tiger.
*****
Whether he was moving slowly because he knew his back was fated to be set ablaze by his mother's palm, or whether it was because he was thinking of the pregnant Æthelthryth...
In any case, clearly wary of possibly offending Mother Áslaug, who was radiantly smiling while radiating an ominous aura to her heart's content, my brother and I left the old city district and moved to the new urban area.
Right now, the only house around here was mine, which was still in the middle of being built, but that was the plan in principle, at least.
Inga and Botilda had been led away by my birth mother, Asta, who declared she was going to have some ladies' time.
But what was there for two men to do left behind? Uncomfortable at the thought of facing Hrólfr, whose eyes had grown markedly hollow from his mounting workload, I had quickly guided Halfdan to my newly built house.
His nickname was Hvitserk. Hvitserk. As one could tell from the meaning, 'White-Shirt,' Halfdan was a man born in the wrong era, obsessively clean even among the notoriously tidy Norsemen, and he was, naturally, deeply impressed by my new house.
A large house that was now gradually stacking up fine quality timber past the foundation stones. A manor designed by Leon's basic plans and my demands, with the main pillars being solidly raised on stonework so that space unfolded across three floors without any load-bearing issues.
Beyond the house itself, the space that consumed roughly a third of the large hill would also include a garden, a high tower, and an area planned for adorable reindeer to frolic.
It had essentially become a sort of palace with heavy Roman coloring, quite different from a traditional longhouse.
Of course, what actually impressed Halfdan was not any of that, but the existence of the sewage system and the lavatory set apart outside the house.
"So, if it were up to me, I'd want to make a toilet out of ceramics, but I still don't know exactly how to make one. I know you've got to bake the clay, though."
The toilet was the biggest problem. That pristine white toilet I had used so nonchalantly in the 21st century without knowing its true value... to think it was the product of such advanced technology...
Halfdan seemed to understand not a word of what I was saying, but he kept nodding as he examined every corner of my now half-finished manor.
"Helgi, my beloved brother...! How much silver does it take to build a house like this?"
Oh—. He didn't even glance at the road, but his eyes definitely lit up at the house.
"It's more a matter of skill than money. And people too. No one's ever done this before. If it weren't for Leon, I wouldn't have even attempted it."
"Leon? You mean that Roman you brought from Miklagard?"
"That's the Leon. First, once this building is finished, I'll invite you over. You can come with Hilda then, and you can decide whether or not to build the same house in Roskilde."
"Helgi, the brother I admire most in this world...! If Hilda agrees too, how much would it cost...?"
From what I could see, Hilda's opinion was already secondary; Halfdan, who seemed completely taken with it himself, would surely want a house like this... This was the way of civilization. You might not know to miss it, but once you knew, there was no escaping it.
"The cost...? Rather than that, let's make it a gift. As a token of my goodwill from a Konungr to a Jarl, and to the Konungr of the Jutes and his daughter."
It would boost Halfdan's prestige. Gain the Jutes' favor. And give the engineers some experience.
It was a conclusion I reached after some thinking on my part, but Halfdan's eyes were brimming with emotion.
"Konungr Helgi...! I shall swear unswerving loyalty for a thousand, ten thousand years...!"
"Why are you being so creepy?"
Suppressing the emotionally moved Halfdan, who was clinging to me, with one hand, I was looking further around the sight of my new, beautiful house when I saw Stórolf running from afar.
If Refil was busy with administrative and clerical tasks together with his own brother Erik, then Stórolf was in overall charge of escorting the royal family, including myself.
Watching the duties that Hrólfr had originally handled all by himself now be taken up by new talents, I could feel the passage of time.
Whenever there was something urgent, it always felt like it was Stórolf running over, and that was because the captain of the guard, Stórolf, was the first to filter the reports from messengers and couriers.
Trivial matters were remembered and told to me later; important ones were reported immediately.
Just like now.
"Konungr Helgi! It is said that Jarl Björn, Sigurdeu, and Ubba have crossed the eastern Seongmun!"
In Constantinople there were countless Seongmun, but our Árós had only three for now. East, west, and north. The south faced the coast directly, so no gate was needed there.
"Ah—. So the one who stirs up storms has finally arrived. Shall we go and see that fine face of his?"
Halfdan, already grinning broadly at the thought of teasing Sigurdeu, hastened his steps, and I, equally excited, followed after him.
A troublemaker was always a nuisance, but there was also no one quite as amusing to watch from the side.
I was curious how Sigurdeu, who had brought about the unprecedented situation of a 'triple brother simultaneous wedding,' would calm his stepmother Áslaug down, but honestly, more than that, I wanted to see the furious breath of the eight-headed dragon.
[ta-t ta-t ta-t ta-t!]
"Eo-eo— come with me, Helgi!"
Had I ever been this happy to see Sigurdeu?
I ran, cutting through the wind, to greet the brother who was walking into a preordained death.
I lightly overtook the fragile groom-to-be, Halfdan, and dashed down the gentle downhill slope, reaching the massive palisade walls in no time.
In the first place, the hill where my new house was to be situated was close to the east gate, and I was fast, too.
Had I run about halfway?
Far in the distance, a cluster of warriors was turning their heads this way and that, frantically taking in the sights of Árós, the central city of Norseman society that was undergoing a monumental transformation.
"Sigurdeu! Björn! Ubba!"
As I ran and called out my brothers' names, filled with the joy of reunion, the warriors—a mixture of Angles and Norsemen—promptly bowed their heads and parted to open a path.
"Konungr Helgi...!"
"Konungr Helgi Ragnarsson!"
Through the gaps between the warriors clearing the way for me, I finally saw the broadly smiling faces of my brothers, and in particular, the figure of a small woman beside Sigurdeu caught my eye.
She had striking red hair, and the shape of her face... somehow, it seemed to resemble Ella of Northumbria a little.
The moment I saw her, the images of my father and Ella flashed through my mind like lightning.
The woman bearing Sigurdeu's child. It was Æthelthryth.