Vikings: Lords of the Ice Sea

Chapter 104 The Duke (Part 3)

At this moment, Lambert remained remarkably calm.

“You are overthinking it. His Majesty admires your twenty years of companionship with Ragnar and would never damage this precious friendship. He only wants you to govern the northern coastal region and, incidentally, suppress the rebellions in Aquitaine and Brittany.”

Through the window, Gunnar gazed at the rolling grasslands and farmlands to the east, taking a deep breath. Besides the salty sea breeze, there was also a hint of the unique scent of fertile land.

Throughout my life, apart from the black soil of the middle and lower reaches of the Dnieper River, the land of West Francia is the most fertile, the land of Britain ranks third, and the land of Northern Europe is the worst.

if.

No, there are no "what ifs"!

He ultimately refused.

“Alas, I am the Earl of Cambridge, Britain, and am not fit to rule this land.”

Sensing a softening of his stance, Lambert burst into laughter. "In this world today, there are many nobles who own two non-adjacent fiefs. For example, your Leonard and Wolfe, who both have fiefs in Britain and their ancestral homeland of Sweden."

It's perfectly normal for you to have taken Normandy based on your own bravery and reputation. The Earl of Cambridge in Britain and the Earl of Normandy in West Francia are not mutually exclusive. If you really don't want to, then I'll find someone else, such as Nils or Om.”

"Ha, them? Only the three of us—Vig, Ivar, and Ivar—can subdue these Norse raiders."

Gunnar subconsciously made a few disparaging remarks about his colleagues, then fell into a long silence. Finally, he put forward a series of very unreasonable conditions.

He could marry Vivian, the French king's cousin, and become a vassal of West Francia, but he would have to have more independence than an ordinary count and be granted the hereditary title of dux, that is, Duke of Normandy, to govern his fiefdom according to Viking traditions.

Moreover, if the Franks ever go to war with Britain, he will strictly remain neutral.

Surprisingly, Lambert agreed to everything, with only one condition: Gunnar and his knights and soldiers must convert to Roman Catholicism.

“Give me some time, and I will try my best to persuade them to change their faith.”

Lambert nodded slightly. "Yes, Your Grace. I look forward to your guidance in the future."

Upon learning that their lord intended to convert to Roman Catholicism, nearly half of the soldiers abandoned Gunnar and returned to Britain the next day with ransom. Only a quarter were willing to convert immediately, while the remaining quarter remained in a wait-and-see mode, depending on the situation.

With a heavy heart, Gunnar and four hundred Normans set sail for the island of Cid.

At the dock, the King, Queen, and a group of cabinet members came to greet them. Among the crowd stood a fair-skinned, beautiful, black-haired girl with red and swollen eyes.

Clearly, this person is Princess Vivian, Charlemagne's great-granddaughter, whom Lambert mentioned, and whom Gunnar is about to marry.

After staring at Vivian for half a minute, Gunnar, unsurprisingly, frightened her into tears. He shook his head and nonchalantly walked to the king's side. "When will the investiture ceremony and wedding be held?"

Charlie smiled kindly, but his tone revealed a hint of determination: "Baptism, and then investiture."

"Okay, as you wish."

As the monks chanted scriptures, Gunnar and half of the warriors went into the shallows to be baptized, declaring their conversion to Roman Catholicism.

Back on shore, Gunnar tossed his wet hair, splashing water droplets onto the clothes of those around him, sparking a string of complaints.

Ignoring the scattering water droplets, Charles drew his sword and, in the name of the king, bestowed upon him the title of Duke of Normandy.

After the ceremony, the crowd surged toward the palace in the center of the Isle of Cité, where the wedding venue had been prepared in advance. The food was sumptuous, and the decorations were luxurious, far exceeding the scale of any banquet Gunnar had attended in Britain. At the long table, Gunnar grabbed a piece of roasted venison steak and, ignoring the strange looks from the crowd, devoured it. "The venison tastes good. What seasoning did you add?"

Lambert: "Thyme, pepper, and truffles from northern Italy."

"You have such a variety of dishes. Compared to you, the Anglo-Saxons' cooking skills are terrible."

As time passed and the atmosphere of the banquet grew increasingly lively, Charlie suddenly clapped his hands forcefully, and a guard holding a long sword appeared in the passageway on the right side of the hall.

“My lord,” Charlie stood up and raised his glass toward Gunnar.

"It is said that you broke two swords in the battle six months ago. Now that you have been promoted to Duke, you should have a superior sword that matches your status."

He had a guard hand the longsword to Gunnar, who drew it without hesitation.

"What exquisite weapons."

The longsword had a cross-shaped guard, a slender and sharp blade, and was engraved with an elegant and flowing Latin script. In the bright candlelight, a diamond set in the hilt refracted a dazzling light, captivating him.

Gunnar thrust his sword into the air a few times and found that the longsword had a reasonable center of gravity and excellent balance, and he could not feel any stagnation when wielding it.

What does this line of text mean?

Lambert leaned closer. "Per aspera ad astra, following this arduous journey, finally reaching the stars. What name do you intend to give it?"

Gunnar scratched his blond hair, placed the longsword in front of Vivian, and gestured for his wife to give him a decent name.

Gazing at the dazzling diamond on the sword hilt, Vivian momentarily forgot her sorrow and fear, reaching out to stroke the diamond and uttering in a daze, "Dawn."

After the wedding, Gunnar stayed in Paris for three days before returning to his castle in Caen with his wife, soldiers, and servants.

This castle, converted from a Roman stone fortress, is about ten meters high and covers a large area, making it far superior in size to the small and cramped wooden fortress in Cambridge.

After settling his luggage, Gunnar left his wife and servants behind and led his soldiers onto the longship. Guided by local fishermen, they sailed along the coastline for a whole day until a faint outline appeared on the horizon.

"Is this Jersey Island in the Channel Islands?"

Upon hearing the translator's account, the fisherman's face was filled with fear, and his body trembled uncontrollably. "Yes, sir. In July, a fellow named Eric the Younger led a fleet to plunder the coastal areas. Before returning to Norway, he left a small force to garrison the Channel Islands, ordering them to repair the docks and barracks as outposts for future raids on West Francia."

Gunnar spat upon hearing that this was Eric Jr.'s subordinate.

"This piece of trash dares to harass my territory?"

He ordered the fleet to spend the night in a secluded bay, and in the early hours of the next day, taking advantage of the thick fog, the fleet silently arrived at the southwestern beach of Jersey.

Because the pirates had only recently occupied Jersey, they did not have time to build fortifications, allowing Gunnar's four hundred soldiers to easily storm the settlement and capture the sleeping enemy without suffering any casualties.

"Whoever surrenders will avoid death!"

Faced with the cold, sharp weapons, more than two hundred pirates left the house and squatted dejectedly in the open space outside, awaiting the victor's judgment.

Half a minute later, one of the prisoners recognized Gunnar's identity, which caused a commotion among the crowd, who did not understand why Gunnar had attacked his own kind.

(End of this chapter)