Viking: Master of the Icy Sea

Chapter 134: Out Of Danger

Ch 134: Out Of Danger

Noticing a hint of killing intent in Halfdan’s words, Ulf reluctantly agreed to participate in this pillaging operation.

Britain and West Francia were no longer suitable for pillaging, so Halfdan set his sights on Pomerania, located on the south bank of the Baltic Sea.

Scattered Slavic tribes were distributed there, with a low level of productivity. However, Halfdan did not care; the spoils of war were secondary, more to satisfy the berserkers’ bloodlust.

“I’ve spoken with the lord of Schleswig and southern Denmark. We’ll first meet up at his territory, gather five hundred warriors, and then depart immediately.”

Ulf replied expressionlessly, “Understood.”

Subsequently, his worries were confirmed. The group pillaged for many days on the Pomeranian coast, later the northern coast of Poland, only harvesting a small box of amber and some tattered animal furs.

During the pillaging, Ulf also discovered that Halfdan was intentionally targeting him, deliberately assigning dangerous tasks, such as acting as bait and launching night raids to seize the city gate.

Relying on years of alertness and luck in warfare, Ulf luckily survived until the end of the operation.

Returning to Schleswig, Lord Horst treated the group of weary warriors. During the feast, some berserkers complained about the meager spoils of war. A tipsy Halfdan waved his hand grandly, “This is just a short rest. We’ll set off again after two days.” His words excited the berserkers, and their shouts filled Ulf’s ears. Ulf felt cold inside, but he pretended to be equally excited, joining in the shouting.

After drinking for over half an hour, Ulf feigned drunkenness, staggering out of the lord’s longhouse. He tripped on the way, causing Halfdan and the others to burst into laughter:

“Look at this Earl ‘Eel’, what a failure.”

“Eel” was Ulf’s nickname. In AD 844, he was financially strapped and had to pay Ragnar a large amount of dried eels as tribute, which made him the laughingstock of others as “Earl Eel.” Leonard deliberately spread this, and it became Ulf’s lifelong nickname.

Years later, at the Battle of Ratatosk, Leonard had his nose cut off by the Frankish knight Maurice, greatly impairing his looks. Ulf took advantage of this opportunity to give this old enemy the nickname “handsome man” in revenge.

Leaving the lord’s longhouse, Ulf secretly crawled into a nearby house. Seven surviving shield-bearers were eating and drinking inside.

“Sir, do you need something?”

“Pack your things, call the Konsel immigrants, and head to the port to escape by ship.”

At this moment, Ulf’s eyes regained clarity. Staying any longer would mean certain betrayal by Halfdan; he had to seize this unique opportunity to escape back to Britain.

Suddenly, a shield-bearer hesitantly asked, “But what about the spoils of war?”

At this time, still coveting those scraps, such fools who value money over their lives!

Suppressing his anger, Ulf softly persuaded, “When we return to Kent, I will compensate you with three times the supplies, everyone will get a share.”

Afterwards, Ulf put on his cloak and arrived at the dock area under the cover of night.

“This longship is in good condition. Quickly, move several barrels of beer over here, and also the dried fish.”

After carrying the supplies, Ulf ordered the sails of several other ships to be cut, and the oars thrown into the water to prevent Halfdan and Horst from pursuing him.

After finishing everything, he counted the people: seven surviving shield-bearers were present, along with thirteen young men and women from Konsel.

Two people were missing?

Looking at the brightly lit, lively lord’s longhouse, Ulf felt annoyed. “Forget it, let’s escape from these lunatics first.”

Two years ago, he heard Vig tell a story about the “Hongmen Banquet” and resonated with a certain sentence—in doing great things, one need not consider minor details.

Hearing the lord’s order, the shield-bearers rowed, steering the longship away from the dock area.

Listening to the gurgling water, Ulf’s mood was low. He felt that he was as unlucky as the “Bang Liu” in the story—at an old age, still having to risk his life with these young hotheads, never having a moment’s peace.

“Upon returning to Londinium, I will expose Halfdan’s evil deeds. This man has completely gone mad.”

Ulf was certain that Ragnar would handle it impartially, at least sending an envoy to rebuke Halfdan.

If the king insisted on protecting his son, ignoring his murder of powerful vassals, the nobles’ discontent would further accumulate, and one day it would erupt completely.

Compared to Ulf’s perilous experiences, Vig’s recent life had been peaceful and leisurely, except for reviewing documents and spending time with Herigifu, who was about to give birth.

One day, Micham found the lord, saying that a large number of immigrants had recently arrived, asking whether to continue settling them in Tyne County.

“Yes, there are large tracts of land on the south bank of the River Tyne available for cultivation. Assign officials to allocate cultivated land to them. The efficiency of windmills and drainage far surpasses manual labor. At this rate, we can absorb at least six or seven thousand immigrants annually.”

Spreading out the map, Vig observed the surrounding plots of land, considering where to settle the next few batches of immigrants. After a short while, an attendant came to report,

“Sir, a carrack flying a seagull banner has arrived at the dock, followed by five longships.”

A seagull banner? Bjorn?

Vig went out to greet him and saw Bjorn instructing his subordinates to purchase cables and spare sailcloth, as if making preparations for a long voyage.

“Where are you going?”

Bjorn: “To the islands west of Iceland. I encountered a storm a few years ago and stayed there for a while. Now I’ve obtained this ‘Explorer’, whose resistance to waves is far superior to Viking longships, suitable for ocean exploration.”

Greenland?

Vig recalled his memories of Greenland: the climate was severe, almost no trees were present, cultivation was impossible, and the indigenous people could only rely on hunting seals and fishing for a living.

This was the early medieval period, Europe’s population was sparse, vast tracts of land awaited cultivation, and the vast majority of Viking immigrants preferred Britain and Normandy. They would not endure storms, poor food, and travel to Iceland, let alone Greenland, with its sparse trees and harsh climate.

“Only a small area of Iceland has been developed. Are you sure you want to explore an island with an even harsher environment?”

“Of course, this is a mission given to me by the gods.”

Seeing Bjorn’s enthusiastic appearance, Vig couldn’t find the words to dissuade him, so he could only let him go.

Even if Bjorn was lucky enough to discover the Americas, large-scale development would still be impossible. North America lacks large mountain ranges running east-west, allowing winter cold fronts to travel unimpeded southward. In summer, extreme weather such as hurricanes and tornadoes are frequent; a slight misstep could lead to the destruction of the entire settlement.

“Historically, landless peasants in Europe, having lost their livelihoods, endured long suffering before going to the New World. Now Europe has vast tracts of uncultivated wasteland. Who would be bored enough to go to other regions to farm? Forget it, let him go.”