Viking: Master of the Icy Sea

Chapter 164: Mutiny

After months of grueling hardship, the over one thousand men of the Royal Guard returned to their old grounds, only to find the local houses in ruins and scarcely any residents remaining. Their morale plummeted.

Inside the lord's longhouse, one of the captains was the first to speak. "What do we do now? Without a place to stay, we'll freeze to death this winter."

Niels yawned. "Come back to Denmark with me for the winter. The locals say the winters in Schleswig aren't particularly harsh. We can wait out the cold there until His Majesty gives us further orders."

Without a moment of hesitation, the entire Royal Guard unanimously agreed to this plan. They boarded ships for Denmark that very noon, clearly unwilling to linger for a second longer.

Halfdan did not evacuate. He resolutely held onto the nearly deserted settlement, guarding against the treacherous Allied Forces attempting a sneak attack during the winter.

In late autumn, as the fires of war gradually died down, a barrage of letters arrived in Londinium, catching Ragnar completely off guard. The contents of the letters were entirely contradictory. Each writer detailed their own unique difficulties, desperately shirking responsibility while making sure to viciously slander everyone else.

Erik Jr.'s letter read: "Uncle, Aunt, are you enjoying this year's white bearskins? My father is in good health; in fact, his spirits have vastly improved since he abdicated. These claims of usurpation are pure rumors—no one in this world loves him more than I do. Also, Niels attacking Denmark has absolutely nothing to do with me."

Oleg's letter read: "Your Majesty, the brothers can hardly hold on much longer. The fault does not lie with me. The main issue is that Halfdan was overly reckless, and the General (Niels) acted entirely on his own. With things as they are now, conquering Sweden has become nothing but empty talk."

In order to earn his monarch's trust, Oleg's letter was exceptionally long, spanning a full three pages. First, he detailed the betrayal of the Royal Guard's commander, Niels. Then, he recounted how he led the troops to land at Gothenburg, dealing a crushing defeat to the Allied Forces. After that came the assault on Kalmar, where Halfdan's negligence supposedly triggered a cascade of disastrous consequences.

To summarize, Halfdan was a blundering fool who ruined everything, Niels was a scheming traitor, and the subordinate captains were incompetent mediocrities. Only he, Oleg, was a loyal and capable commander.The third letter was from Niels: "Uncle, regarding the attack on Denmark, the main reason was that the boys were carrying too much resentment and clamoring to raid the surrounding areas. I had no choice but to indulge them. I never expected the Danish lords to be so fragile; we accidentally conquered the entire region before we even realized it.

"You have fought countless battles and understand the greedy nature of the men below. If we fail to satisfy their appetites, who knows if they might turn around and bite their own people.

"Certain people have slandered me, claiming I crowned myself king. This is pure rumor! The crown was secretly forged by Hrolf, who plotted to usurp the throne of Norway. I personally have no thoughts of overstepping my bounds; my only desire is to serve you and your heirs.

"Furthermore, the blame for the unfavorable war in Sweden lies squarely on Halfdan and Oleg. Leading fifteen hundred armored soldiers and hundreds of Berserkers, they actually allowed the Allied Forces to launch a surprise attack on Gothenburg. Afterward, they cowered in Kalmar on their last legs, forcing me to personally intervene and save them. They are simply two evenly matched idiots!"

The fourth letter was from Halfdan, and its contents were incredibly brief: "Dad, your son knows he messed up. Please help me one more time."

The fifth letter was sent by the Swedish Allied Forces, accompanied by the names and fingerprints of over fifty nobles.

"Great King Ragnar, your mighty name is known to all from Ireland to the Caucasus. We respect your title and are willing to accept your rule. The prerequisite, however, is that you restrain those barbaric, pelt-wearing Berserkers. Do not let them ravage the countryside at will, or else we would rather burn our fields, block our wells, slaughter our livestock, and fight your army to the very last man."

From the perspective of each writer, it seemed their stance was inherently righteous and all their actions were born of absolute necessity. Yet, piecing together their various claims, Ragnar felt there wasn't a single decent person among them. The letters were riddled with nothing but sophistry and slander.

'Could it be that there isn't a single honest and reliable man left to be found in this world?'

Putting away the stack of letters, Ragnar fixed his gaze on Hrolf, who stood in the ranks to his right. Ever since the fall of Schleswig, this man had raised an army twice, only to be ruthlessly crushed by Niels both times. Just two days ago, he had fled to Londinium in exile, seeking the protection of his sister, Sola.

Ragnar asked, "My lord, what do you think I should do?"

Seeing his chance for revenge, Hrolf immediately stepped into the center of the hall, bringing out his carefully prepared rhetoric. From his point of view, neither Erik Jr. nor Niels were any good. The former had bewitched the expeditionary force into pillaging Denmark, committing every imaginable atrocity, and even orchestrating a coup to seize the throne. The latter went without saying—he only cared about his own interests, which in a way was tantamount to treason.

As for the crown Niels had supposedly found in Schleswig, Hrolf swore to the heavens that he had never seen such a thing.

"Your Majesty, please lend me an army. I guarantee I will conquer Denmark for you and, along the way, capture those two heartless traitors, Erik Jr. and Niels."

'Just another scoundrel with a mouth full of lies!' Ragnar thought. The chaos in Northern Europe involved far too many factions. He intended to drag things out a little longer and calmly observe how the situation developed.

Meanwhile, in Denmark.

Riding on the terrifying momentum of the Royal Guard, Niels ruthlessly purged resistance factions across the region. After every battle, he distributed the captured slaves and wealth among the armored soldiers of the Royal Guard, and divided the newly acquired land among his subordinates. He didn't take a single coin for himself, his only desire being to eradicate all opposition as swiftly as possible.

Compared to the grueling war in Sweden, the suppression campaign in Denmark felt like a vacation. The local rebels were poorly equipped and suffered from abysmal morale. It only took a single charge from the Royal Guard's armored troops for the enemy's shield walls to crumble into dust. What followed was merely the lighthearted, effortless task of rounding up prisoners.

As time passed, soldiers of the Royal Guard began seeking Niels out one after another, pleading to become his vassals. Having been conquered for less than half a year, Denmark had vast swathes of fiefs available for the picking. A golden opportunity like this was incredibly rare.

"There's no rush. Let me think about it," Niels replied.

Conquering Denmark had already been an act of insubordination on the battlefield. Niels felt a lingering anxiety; if he also absorbed the Royal Guard for his own personal use, Ragnar would probably tear him apart alive.

After careful deliberation, he decided to refuse them.

"You are the King's Royal Guard," he told them. "You swore an oath in the temple. Next year, you must return to Sweden to help the Prince fight his war. It would be entirely inappropriate for you to pledge your loyalty to me."

The General was deeply burdened with worry, but he never expected his words to infuriate his veteran subordinates. The atmosphere within the army gradually grew eerie. Some of the soldiers, untethered by families or dependents, simply decided to risk it all and force the issue.

One night, while Niels was drinking in his tent with a few surrendered nobles, a loud clamor of footsteps suddenly erupted outside. Fully armed, armored soldiers completely surrounded the area, demanding that the General give them a proper explanation.

Lifting the tent flap, Niels's heart plummeted to the bottom of his chest. A cold sweat seeped from his palms. In the flickering light of the torches outside, he could see an ever-growing number of soldiers gathering in the gloom.

"Brothers, how exactly have I wronged you?" he asked, his voice tight.

At that moment, the leading soldier roared at the top of his lungs, "General, the brothers really don't want to go to Sweden! We've worked our asses off for half a year and haven't gotten a single scrap to show for it. Halfdan is an absolute idiot. If we keep following him, it's only a matter of time before he gets us all killed!"

Another man chimed in, "When it comes to battle achievements and strategy, you're a hundred times better than Halfdan. Everyone just wants to stay in Denmark and make a life with you."