Vikings: Lords of the Ice Sea

Chapter 51 Royal Power
A year later, with the arrival of a large number of Viking immigrants, York finally recovered its former prosperity. However, this was followed by a severe deterioration in sanitation, with a foul stench and overflowing sewage, which made Vigg shake his head repeatedly.

Outside the palace, he encountered a plump young man wrapped in a light blue cloak, his right arm linked with that of a beautiful woman.

Eric the Younger, son of King Eric, and his daughter Eve? What are the brother and sister doing in Northumbria?
Vig stepped forward, full of doubts, and learned that they had come to purchase weapons. It seemed that King Eric was about to launch a large-scale war to wipe out the rebels throughout Norway.

He chatted with the two of them for a few minutes, and then Nils suddenly came running over, panting, and gave Eve a fine gold necklace.

Vig was uninterested in this tedious courtship ritual, took his leave, and left behind Eve's cool voice:

“My father is a king, my mother a queen, my brother will one day become king, and my aunt Sora married Ragnar. My whole family is entitled to wear the crown, so why should I condescend to marry an ordinary person? Nils, you are a good man, and I don’t mind spending a wonderful time with you, but marriage is a very serious matter.”

Upon entering the main hall, Vig unexpectedly saw Bjorn's back as he described his adventure's spoils.

Two years ago, Bjorn's request for a knighthood was rejected by seven nobles. He then left in anger with two longships. Judging from his excited expression, he must have made quite a haul.

“Father, I have been traveling in the Mediterranean for nearly two years, and I have a gift for you.”

Bjorn whistled toward the door, and a sallow-skinned slave presented him with a longsword with a cross-shaped hilt.

Ragnar left the throne, drew his longsword, and swung it a few times in the air. It was light and swift, and felt far better in his hand than an ordinary iron sword.

Gazing at the magnificent blade and the bright sapphire inlaid in the hilt, he was mesmerized, as if he were destined to possess this weapon, and murmured to himself, "Royal Power, let's call it 'Royal Power'."

Sheathing his sword, Ragnar returned to his seat, his gaze shifting to the sword at Bjorn's waist. "Is this also a valuable weapon you acquired?"

“Not bad, two in total. One is for you, and I'll keep the other for myself.” Bjorn drew his sword from his waist. It was a single-edged sword with a slightly curved blade and intricate, continuous patterns, exhibiting a strong Arabic style.

Raging Waves was the new name Bjorn gave to the sword after killing its original owner.

When it was Vig's turn, he handed the list of supplies to Goodwin. Due to the great gains from the Battle of Dufelin, this year's tribute was worth thirty pounds of silver.

"I've heard the details of the Battle of Duflin. Well done, Vig."

Ragnar personally poured him a glass of wine. "York, Dufelin, it seems no city can stop you. Compared to the Chosen One and the Serpent of the North, I think the nickname 'Citybreaker' is more fitting for your role in battle."

“Thank you for your praise, Your Majesty.” Vig bowed and, as usual, walked to the end of the right-hand queue.

When it was Wolf's turn, he went to great lengths to wipe out the sheep thieves this year, but unfortunately, the Welsh region was densely forested and he didn't get much loot. He could only take a boat to Cornwall further south and steal a bit to barely make ends meet.

The situation of the other nobles is similar to that of last year, except that Ivar has yet to show up.

At midday, a tall, strong Viking warrior entered the hall, representing Ivar to pay tribute.

“I’m very sorry, Your Majesty, Ivar is engaged in fierce fighting with two Irish noble families and simply cannot extricate himself.” Vig was not surprised at all. Ivar had always disdained wasting words on those he considered weak, let alone patiently compromising. If he were to handle the affairs of Tyneburg, the survival rate of those gentry and village chiefs would be no more than a third!

"If Ivar continues to pursue hegemony without understanding the importance of appeasement, he will likely be embroiled in a long and protracted war, and he will be busy for the next few years."

banquet.

Thanks to his experience in the Mediterranean, Bjorn became the center of attention. In addition to two Damascus steel swords, he also received five barrels of cinnamon and pepper from the East, worth more than one hundred pounds of silver, as well as ivory, jewelry, and twelve Berber prisoners.

Faced with such enormous wealth, the nobles were extremely envious and declared that they would also travel to the Mediterranean next year.

"Calm down, friends. The journey is long, and without proper navigation skills, acting rashly is tantamount to suicide!"

The more people coveted it, the brighter his smile became. He boasted that he had mastered the Arabs' navigation techniques and had also acquired a secret treasure from the Tang Dynasty that could guide him on the vast sea.

Seeing their discomfitured expressions, Bjorn felt immensely pleased. Two years ago, his reason for setting sail was simply anger, but after this period of adventure, he seemed born for this thrilling seafaring career.

The local customs and traditions, beautiful women of different skin colors, the thrilling battles encountered from time to time, and the loot obtained after the battles.
Odin above, thank you for letting me experience all of this.

His throat was dry from talking, Bjorn came to the edge of the long table, put his arm around Vig's shoulder, and asked, "Chosen One, what are you thinking about?"

Vig put down the pig's trotter he had half-eaten and asked in a low voice, "The Great Tang Treasure you mentioned earlier, is it an object that always points south no matter how its location changes?"

"how do you know!"

With his secret exposed, Bjorn's voice suddenly rose, and the smile on his face vanished. "Could you really be a chosen one of the Aesir?"

Vig did not respond, silently sipping his drink.

Leaving that topic aside, Bjorn mentioned a rumor that had troubled him for a long time:
“In recent years, Norwegian fishermen have been caught in storms while fishing at sea. Some of them have been swept westward by storms and survived. They claim to have discovered Jotunheim, a cold and barren place where a rotting whale carcass lies stranded on the beach and inland mountains spew forth a rain of fire. Do you think this rumor is true?”

Cold, barren, volcanic eruptions—isn't this Iceland? There's nothing worth exploring in this wretched place.

Wait, a volcano? Volcanic ash!
Vig suddenly remembered that Roman concrete required volcanic ash, and as his territory prospered, he would eventually have to build stone walls and castles. He also thought that if Bjorn discovered Iceland's location, he could benefit from it as well.

Vig scratched the back of his head. "I have information on that. In exchange, you have to give a detailed account of your adventures in the Mediterranean, without mixing in any strange or absurd rumors."

“Well, I can’t do anything with you.” Bjorn sighed and began to recount the adventure from the beginning.

　Thanks to book friend 20191019202329614 for the reward

　　
　
(End of this chapter)