Vikings: Lords of the Ice Sea

Chapter 42 Invitation

Reactions to the tribute paid by Ivar varied. The nobles whistled, and one even took the opportunity to pinch a slave's fair cheek, praising it openly:
“Ivar, you’re so creative. I’m going to send a few beauties to His Majesty to warm his bed next year too.”

"Silence!" Sora scanned everyone with a grim face, finally looking at his stepson, who was known for his bravery and cruelty. "Lord Derwent, what exactly are you doing? This is not a slave market or a brothel."

“Your Majesty, I am paying my tribute.” Ivar met the Queen’s gaze calmly. “If you are not pleased, you may dispose of them as you see fit.”

At that moment, the atmosphere became incredibly tense. Involving family conflicts, Ragnar quickly changed the subject.

"What exactly happened to you in Ireland? Do you need me to send the palace guards to help you?"

"I was caught off guard and got tricked by the locals. You don't need to take action yourself. Next spring, I'll call Vig and bring a few more groups of raiders. I guarantee we'll wipe them all out."

Huh? What does this have to do with me?
Vig, who had been standing silently at the end of the line like a clay sculpture, raised his head for the first time and looked at Ivar in surprise, but in the end he still didn't speak, planning to find an opportunity to talk to him in detail in private.

banquet.

Vig chose a seat next to Ivar and asked him about his experiences over the past six months.

Ivar tore off half a roasted quail, put it in his mouth and chewed it heartily. "In April, we went to the fiefdom and spent half a month attacking the former lord's fortress. That guy actually built a stone fortress, which is much more difficult to deal with than an ordinary wooden fortress. In June, I had the Shield Guard recruit four hundred raiders in York. After gathering eight hundred men, we started building ships."

"Eight hundred Vikings? You didn't conscript any militia from within your territory?"

“Yes, the Anglo-Saxons are cowardly and not very useful, so they all stay at home and farm.” Ivar drank most of a glass of wine and talked about his experiences after going to sea.

Departing from the Derwent estuary, the fleet sailed west to the Isle of Man, where he easily dealt with the two local nobles. After replenishing their food and water supplies, Ivar continued his voyage towards his destination—the Liffey estuary in eastern Ireland.

According to his original plan, Ivar intended to establish a stronghold at the mouth of the Lifi River, and then expand inland along the river, gradually eliminating scattered forces in various places, and eventually becoming a true king.

However, the first phase of the plan went wrong.

"Damn it, we're too late! The mouth of the River Liffey has already been taken!"

Recalling the situation, Ivar was filled with resentment: "A wooden fortress appeared there—Dufilin, ruled by a Viking chieftain named Swan who called himself king. I fought him three times in a row. His warships were huge, and we suffered many losses. When we fled back to the Isle of Man in September, we had less than five hundred men left."

(Dyfflin is a transliteration of the North American word "Dyfflin," meaning black pond, and its location was roughly near what is now Dublin.)
During the interrogation of the prisoners, Ivar learned that Sven was a nobleman from northern Norway who had led a fleet to the mouth of the Liffey River a few years earlier and then established a settlement on the south bank of the Liffey as a long-term base.

Over the years, Dufilin has grown to a population of three thousand, and can muster over a thousand Vikings for battle.

“A thousand warriors, plus the large warships we have.” Vig calculated Sven’s strength, his tone unusually grave. “According to you, we’ll first have a naval battle with Sven, and after winning that, there will be a siege. It’ll probably be very troublesome. I suggest we ask the king for help and request that he dispatch some of the palace guards.”

“You think I haven’t thought about it?” Ivar glanced at Sora sitting next to Ragnar. “This woman doesn’t like me. If the palace guards get involved, she’ll definitely take a lot of the spoils afterward. Wouldn’t this battle have been for nothing? Besides, Sven isn’t a tough character. You and I working together is enough.”

After the banquet, Vig approached Gunnar to purchase a batch of armor. To prepare for next year's war, he selected thirty sets of finely crafted iron armor, along with matching helmets, totaling sixty pounds of silver. Not having enough money on him, he inquired about the possibility of paying on credit, promising to repay the debt later with wheat.

Surprisingly, Gunnar showed no hesitation. "No problem, His Majesty has already spoken to me. Next year, when you and Ivar attack Sven, you'll definitely need a batch of high-quality equipment."

The burly man pointed to two rows of weapon racks in the corner. "There are thirty iron swords there, consider it a free gift. Do you need anything else?"

"Give me another batch of iron tools and nails for shipbuilding."

After collecting the supplies, Vig returned to the courtyard where he was temporarily staying and found Hafdan, dressed in a white robe, waiting for him inside.

"You and Ivar are attacking Dufilin, do you want me to join you?"

Vig sized up the still-childish boy and flatly refused, "You're too young to participate in battle. Besides, Ivar is your older brother; you should be asking him, not me. He's already rejected you once."

After saying that, he gestured for the thirty newly recruited shield guards to collect their armor. If the size didn't match, they would have to go to Gunnar to exchange it.

However, Hafdan was not going to give up easily and lingered behind him, unwilling to leave.

“Hey, don’t do that. Bjorn hasn’t returned since he went to sea in March. Next year, you and Ivar will go to war, and Gunnar, Nils, and Om will each lead a team to suppress bandits in the mountains. Do you want me to stay in York alone and have to put up with the old witch’s temper?”

Almost instantly, Vig realized that the so-called "old witch" referred to Queen Sora, and froze on the spot. "In that case, you go find Ivar again and follow him as an ordinary Viking warrior."

"Ordinary soldier?" Hafdan's eyes gradually brightened, and he excitedly ran out of the courtyard.

Having gotten rid of this trouble, Vig felt incredibly relieved. He spent two days selling the honey and wool he had brought with him at the market before finding Ragnar to say goodbye.

"Not staying a couple more days? Are you in such a hurry to go home to your new wife?"

In response, Vig explained that he had come up with a new type of warship and was eager to return to Tyneburg to verify his conjecture.

“A new warship? Haha, you always manage to come up with something new.” Ragnar clapped his hands and laughed, then presented him with a jug of fine wine. “May Odin bless you.”

The main reason Vig was eager to leave York was that he didn't want to get involved in the internal royal conflicts.

Since Lagosa died from poison, Ragnar, for political reasons, married King Eric's sister, Sora. Lagosa's three sons had reservations about the marriage. If things continued this way, the conflict would only intensify as Sora's son, Uber, grew older.

After observing for the past few days, Viggo concluded that Sora was a formidable character, and for safety's sake, it was best to stay away from this extremely dangerous vortex.

(End of this chapter)