Viking: Master of the Icy Sea

Chapter 153: The Vanishing Enemy

Closely following the rebels' tracks, Viggo crossed the northwest ridge line. Below the mountain lay a flat, open river valley containing nearly a hundred low-slung farmhouses. Numerous oat fields had been carved out around them, the crops growing vigorously.

"This is a good location. It would be suitable for building a wooden fort after the war."

He arranged for two hundred conscripted militiamen to stay behind to guard the captives and tend to the wounded. The remaining troops continued to pursue the enemy remnants, striving to eradicate the root of the rebellion once and for all.

As for the hundred-plus highlanders to the northeast, Viggo couldn't be bothered with them for the time being. There would be plenty of time to deal with that lot later.

Tracking along the muddy path, over five hundred warriors pursued toward the west. Occasionally, rebels fell behind along the way. Viggo did not execute these precious laborers; instead, he had the militia escort them back to the river valley camp. In the future, they would be incorporated into the Reclamation Teams across the territory.

That evening, the warriors found a dry clearing and slept on the ground. Around midnight, flames lit up the southern sky. Judging by the direction, it should be the left-wing army led by Joren.

Early the next morning, Viggo hastily gnawed on a small piece of dry rations. Following the footprints left by the rebels, he marched west until he arrived at a desolate and secluded beach.

"Where did they go?"

The tide was currently rising, sending endless waves washing over the sand. There was no one in sight, only a flock of birds pecking at seashells.

Left with no choice, Viggo split his forces once more. One group went south, the other north, searching the beach for the remaining rebels. Strangely enough, these Picts seemed to have completely vanished.After searching the surrounding area for two days, Viggo encountered a specialized combat squad sent by Joren.

"How is the situation on the left flank?"

The squad leader replied, "Out of over a hundred rebels in total, we killed or captured eighty-three, while a dozen or so escaped. The baron's camp is not far from here. Would you like to head over and rest?"

Having trekked through the mountains for days, Viggo's legs were sore and numb. His body was nearing its limit, forcing him to conclude this anticlimactic pursuit.

Shortly after regrouping with Joren, he received a message from Shrike. The battle on the right flank had been equally smooth. Out of two hundred Pictish rebels, only five had escaped—an absolute, sweeping victory.

"Overall, the left and right flanks successfully achieved their tactical objectives. The center force under my command encountered the enemy's main body, but we let over a hundred rebels slip away. This is going to be troublesome. The spark of rebellion survives. Who is to say they will not rise again one day to continue harassing the various regions?"

After days of fruitless searching, morale in the army plummeted. Viggo had no choice but to return to the nearest territory, Glasgow County. On the way back, Detective Chief Connor sought him out privately.

"My lord, while my subordinates and I were tallying the captives and corpses, we discovered that an undercover agent is missing. Perhaps he blended in with the rebel remnants."

Out of curiosity, Viggo asked for information about this undercover agent. He learned that the man's name was Gwen, a freed slave who possessed three-quarters Viking blood.

At Connor's strong recommendation, he did not disband the army. Instead, they stationed in Glasgow County to rest and reorganize, waiting for news from this agent, Gwen.

Meanwhile, on North Uist Island.

"Boy, find a whetstone and sharpen these daggers again!"

"Right away, my lord," Gwen quickly agreed. He picked up five rust-mottled daggers from the ground and carefully ground away the corrosion on their surfaces.

A week ago, he had fled in a panic alongside the rebel remnants, thinking his career as an undercover agent had come to an end. Unexpectedly, the rebel chieftain Morgan had long been in contact with the Vikings of the Isles Alliance. Morgan had hidden three longships on a desolate beach, leading the rebels on a smooth voyage west to North Uist Island.

After landing, the island's Viking chieftain settled the rebels in a secluded bay. They secretly delivered supplies but strictly forbade the rebels from wandering around on their own. Relying on his grasp of the Norse language, Gwen eavesdropped on the Vikings' conversations and learned that the chieftain here was named Steinn, who was also the most powerful leader in the Isles Alliance.

'Over the past decade or so, the Vikings of the Isles Alliance have frequently come ashore to pillage, and the Picts have suffered deeply because of it. I never imagined the two would form an alliance!'

Having uncovered this highly valuable intelligence, Gwen's heart surged with excitement.

'I must find a way back to the mainland. Once this mission is complete, a promotion and a raise will be entirely within reach.'

Due to his short stature, Gwen had long served as a lackey within the rebel ranks, responsible for menial chores like doing laundry and cooking meals.

The advantage of such a role was that it made gathering intelligence easy; the disadvantage was his low standing. He had no say in the rebels' decisions and could only passively bide his time.

Over the following period, the rebels gradually grew accustomed to island life. Every day, they slept until they woke naturally, after which they headed to the beach to forage for seafood. They found large oysters with sweet, succulent flesh, black-shelled mussels, and a type of finely textured blue crab. Because its shell was covered in soft, fine hairs, it was also known as the velvet crab.

As a menial laborer, Gwen was assigned a new task. Whenever the tide receded, he would carry a wooden bucket to the reef, collecting various shellfish from the rocky crevices and shallows.

Afterward, he had to check the gillnets set up in the shallow waters, gathering the captured mackerel, haddock, and trout. Every day, he served up different dishes to satisfy the appetite of Chieftain Morgan.

"These oysters are quite good. They are best eaten raw; cooking them would just ruin their texture,"

Morgan remarked, swallowing two raw oysters in quick succession. He then used the hilt of his dagger to smash open the carapace of a velvet crab, using the tip of the blade to pick out the tender meat and savor it slowly.

Halfway through dinner, Steinn came to visit, carrying two jars of salt and a jug of mead. Seeing the comfortable lives the rebels were leading, a sudden sense of crisis welled up in his heart.

'I cannot let them keep slacking off. Once they adapt to this comfortable life, they will likely develop the idea of settling down here!'

Sitting on the ground, Steinn accepted the oyster Morgan handed him and asked with feigned nonchalance, "What are your plans going forward?"

Flipping the mackerel on the grill, Morgan's tone deepened. "I do not know. We will lay low for now, then return to the mainland to continue the fight."

Steinn suddenly leaned in close, lowering his voice. "I happen to have an idea."

After a lengthy discussion, Morgan and Steinn gathered the remaining ninety-five rebels. They planned to select members to disguise themselves as fishmongers, go ashore, and contact various factions to orchestrate a massive operation.

Because of the sensitive nature of this mission, the burly, fierce-looking men were excluded. The two leaders swept their gazes across the group, picking out four members, including Gwen.

'What is going on?'

To his utter disbelief, he and the other three men were assigned to a small fishing boat loaded with over a dozen barrels of seafood.

To ensure the four Picts reached the shore smoothly, Steinn assigned a trusted subordinate to helm the boat. Driven by the northwest wind, the fishing vessel arrived safely at the port in Glasgow County without a hitch.

According to the plan, Gwen disguised himself as a fishmonger, tasked with gathering information in the marketplace. The remaining three men headed into the countryside to deliver letters and contact the surviving gentry.

After parting ways with the others, Gwen hurried to the Sheriff's manor as quickly as possible. To his surprise, both the Duke and Detective Chief Connor were already there.