novelraw Chapter 200: Homecoming
Chapter 200: Homecoming
In early February, a series of explosive news reports reached the north. At that moment, the Duke of Tainburg was inspecting the five counties of the Northern Marches. Buffeted by the biting winter wind, he fell deep into thought atop his jolting horse.
Suddenly, Wigg ordered his gray horse to halt. He had the guards behind him bring up a stretcher and promptly lay down on it.
"My lord?" Utgard asked, thoroughly confused. He had no idea what new trick the Duke was playing at now.
"Spread the word that Wigg of Tainburg was attacked by rebels during his inspection tour. He was struck by five arrows and is temporarily recuperating in Stirling County. All administrative duties are to be transferred to Heregyth of Tainburg," Wigg declared.
The political situation was dangerously murky. Wigg had absolutely no intention of traveling to Londinium to seek an audience with the new King. Heaven only knew what that madwoman Aslaug was plotting; if he were detained there, it would spell disaster.
As he spoke, the aging gray horse suddenly lowered its head and licked Wigg's cheek with a wet tongue, provoking a sharp complaint. "Grey Wind, leave me alone."
The gray horse snorted in obvious displeasure, huffing a cloud of white mist into the frigid air as if mocking human frivolity. After a few minutes of delay, the procession resumed its march, advancing slowly toward the nearby Stirling County.
Wigg's excuse was taking five arrows to the body, but the rest of the high nobles harbored similar intentions.
Some claimed to have fallen off their horses while hunting, while others complained of dizzy spells that left them unable to endure a long journey. The most outrageous excuse came from Ethelbald; he sent an envoy to Londinium in his stead, claiming that the Duke had suffered a heatstroke!
Over half a month passed. A ship from Norway docked in Edinburgh. The crew had braved the treacherous conditions of the North Sea to deliver a special antidote for snake venom, intended to treat the comatose King Ragnar."His Majesty has passed away from his illness. Sigurd is now on the throne."
Hearing the news spreading through the docks, the Norwegian envoy stood completely paralyzed in shock. Upon learning that Wigg was recuperating in Stirling County, he rushed over to visit him as quickly as possible.
"My lord, what do you make of this? Are you truly willing to bow to a weak, sickly boy and allow Aslaug to dictate the affairs of the state?"
Sitting in bed with a book, Wigg replied nonchalantly, "This situation won't last long. Let us wait a while and see."
He had received reports that Aslaug had tightened security around the Royal Palace. She was also dictating her son's diet and daily routine based on the conflicting advice of both shamans and priests. The two drastically different approaches were undoubtedly tormenting the new King. At this rate, the boy likely wouldn't survive much longer.
With matters having reached this point, the envoy was completely helpless. Wigg advised him to turn back and return to his homeland. "Aslaug murdered Sola, who was your King's own aunt, and she has issued bounties for Hrolf and Ubbe. Our two nations have completely torn away all pretenses of peace. Go back early, and do not throw away your life or the lives of your crew."
In the end, this battle-tested Knarr ship remained docked in Edinburgh. After offloading their cargo of furs and amber, they purchased woolen cloth, ale, and pig iron ingots before tracing their original route back to Norway.
March, Londinium.
After Sigurd recovered, Aslaug's mental state became highly erratic. She abandoned her magnificent gowns, choosing instead to wear iron armor when receiving the Cabinet and visitors. As the newly appointed Governor of Londinium, Pascal Jr. had witnessed the Queen Mother draw a short axe to threaten him on more than one occasion. Fearing for his life, he devised an escape plan on the advice of his advisors.
"You wish to escort Ragnar's coffin to Gothenburg?"
Aslaug happened to be in good spirits today. Sitting upright on the throne, she frowned in thought for half a minute before finally agreeing to the young Governor's request.
Pascal Jr. left the Royal Palace in disbelief. Eavesdropping on the idle chatter of the servants, he discovered the reason for the Queen Mother's improved mood: a massive new rebellion had erupted in western Ireland. Ivar the Boneless was tied down and would not be able to free himself anytime soon, leaving him utterly incapable of contesting the throne in Londinium. 'Thank the gods, thank Ivar the Boneless, and thank the Irish rebels. I couldn't stand another day in this wretched place.'
Pascal Jr. packed his bags, ordered his men to stow the foul-smelling coffin into the lower hold of a Knarr ship, and fled Londinium.
After burying the late King, he planned to sail to Norway and then cross the sea to northern Britain. From there, he would claim to have suffered a nervous shock during his travels and send a messenger to deliver his letter of resignation to the Queen Mother.
'Thys is far too distant from Londinium. Aslaug won't mobilize the Royal Guard to attack me. Gods above, from now on, I will stay peacefully in my territory. Even if I have to borrow money, I will hire stonemasons to build a tall, sturdy castle to stay far away from this filthy, endless power struggle.'
Riding the sea breeze, the fleet arrived in Dover. The port was crowded with twenty French warships flying the fleur-de-lis. A large number of emaciated, dispirited prisoners of war stumbled out of the cabins. The moment they stepped ashore, many collapsed to their knees, clutching the dirt as they openly wept.
After half a year of delays, the families of the prisoners from both nations had grown increasingly anxious. Through their combined efforts, Gorm and Lamberto finally reached a compromise:
The two sides exchanged prisoners of war, with the Kingdom of Britain paying 1,500 pounds to make up for the difference in the prisoners' ransom values. Furthermore, the Kingdom of Britain promised to continue protecting the monasteries within its borders and allow the peasants to voluntarily pay their tithes.
With the signing of the peace treaty, the Second Viking-West Francia War officially came to an end. Charles the Bald had suffered early defeats before finally securing a victory, but his forces had also sustained catastrophic losses, leaving him entirely incapable of organizing an army for a cross-sea invasion.
At present, King Charles's attention was focused entirely on Breizh. Following the summer harvest this year, he planned to launch another major offensive to eradicate the bloodlines of the rebellious nobles and completely subjugate the region.
"The French army can't attack us for the time being, yet we've thrown ourselves into chaos. Sigh, these days are getting harder and harder to survive," Ulf muttered as usual. He had come out to welcome Pascal Jr., his gaze fixed on the pitiful prisoners of war.
Inviting his guest to enjoy dinner at Candle Keep, Ulf took the opportunity to fish for news from Londinium.
"I heard that Aslaug threw a flying axe and killed a chattering member of the gentry last week. Is that true?"
Pascal Jr. looked incredibly downcast. "I was standing right next to him. His blood splattered all over me. The late King reigned for over a decade and never once killed a man in the main hall. But now, with the Queen Mother serving as Regent, she has repeatedly broken precedent. Londinium is completely unlivable."
Pondering for a moment, Ulf suddenly realized the true reason the Queen Mother had arranged for Pascal Jr. to host the funeral:
Ragnar held immense prestige within Viking society. Hosting his funeral was tantamount to inheriting a portion of his influence.
The problem was that Pascal Jr. was an Angle and a devout follower of Roman Catholicism. It was impossible for him to use this opportunity to boost his own prestige in Viking society. Aslaug's logic was simple: she would rather completely waste this influence than risk strengthening the prestige of other nobles and potentially endangering Sigurd's rule.
Hearing Ulf's explanation, Pascal Jr. nodded repeatedly in agreement. Seeing this, Ulf revealed a faint smile. This man might lack competence, but he was honest and straightforward. He might just prove useful in the future.
As fellow brothers-in-arms who had once navigated the dangers of West Francia together, Ulf decided to do him a favor and offered a suggestion.
"Once His Majesty's funeral concludes, make sure you change your course. Take the northern route back to Britain, and then hunker down in your own territory. Aslaug won't have the energy or the manpower to send troops after you."