Viking: Master of the Icy Sea

Chapter 235: Iberia

After carefully considering Seybert's suggestion, Wigg sought out the Minister of Naval Affairs, Helgi, to inquire about the feasibility of this plan.

"Head to Iberia?"

Helgi looked at the various maps scattered across the desk. There were maps drawn by Bjorn, Wigg, and the monastery monks, along with ancient parchment scrolls left over from the Roman era.

After studying them for a long time, he responded solemnly, "We spent a fortune building this navy, so it is high time we took it out for a spin. I will personally lead this expedition. If the locals refuse to cooperate..."

Wigg interrupted his brother-in-law. "We are no longer the Viking raiders of the past. Compared to plunder, stable trade brings far more benefits. Suppose a certain port refuses to trade, we can simply find another. Do not act on impulse."

Currently, the Royal Navy boasted eleven warships and two supply ships (Knarr ships), divided into the Northern Fleet and the Southern Fleet.

The Northern Fleet's home port was in Edinburgh. It patrolled the northern seas, defended against the threats of the Norwegian and Swedish kingdoms, and was routinely responsible for wiping out pirates.

The Southern Fleet's home port was in Londinium. Its primary focus was patrolling the waters between Britain and West Francia (the English Channel/La Manche).

In the current plans, nine more warships would enter service in the future. The vast majority of these would be assigned to the Southern Fleet to strengthen the channel's defenses and fully counter the Frankish threat.

Based on their routine training performance, Helgi selected the three two-masted brigantines in the best condition. In addition to various supplies, he stuffed the holds with plenty of woolen cloth, amber, and furs to sell to the Iberians in the south, treating it as a bonus for the exploration fleet.In mid-August, the exploration fleet slowly sailed out of Londinium, following the coastline down to Cornwall at the southwestern tip of Britain.

After waiting for two days at a port named Plymouth and taking advantage of the favorable sea conditions, the exploration fleet headed straight south toward the Brittany Peninsula across the channel.

"Stay alert! From this moment on, we will be sailing along the coastal regions of an enemy nation. During the night watch, sailors are strictly forbidden from dozing off. Violators will be severely punished!"

Rumor had it that Breizh was under strict supervision by the Frankish army, with numerous wooden forts constructed within its borders. To prevent the Vikings from inciting the local residents to rebel again, an undisclosed number of fleets were stationed in the coastal ports.

Prioritizing the mission, Helgi did not provoke the enemy. They quickly bypassed the Brittany Peninsula and sailed south along the coastline.

During the subsequent journey, the fleet encountered neither the Frankish navy nor any storms. A faint northerly wind billowed the sails, pushing the ships slowly forward.

"Wind direction remains unchanged. Speed is three knots."

Every morning, the night-watch military officer's routine report and the unpalatable breakfast arrived right on time. The seawater rolled lazily against the sides of the hull, and the sky was completely devoid of clouds. The monotony was sleep-inducing.

Occasionally, a few dolphins would leap out of the water without warning, their silver backs tracing smooth arcs in the sunlight. At first, the sailors would excitedly rush to the ship's rail to point and shout, but the dolphins merely swam silently for a moment before diving beneath the surface and vanishing without a trace.

"These days are too boring. Boss, take us ashore for a bit. We'll do anything, just give us something to do."

The sailors leaned or lay about, idly killing time on the deck. Some slowly counted the knots in the mooring ropes, starting over whenever they lost track. Some bragged about the plump barmaids they had bedded in port taverns, drawing jeers from the men around them. Others brought up various eerie, ancient legends, but failed to pique the listeners' interest.

More than a week later, the fleet arrived at the northern coast of the Iberian Peninsula. Following the coastline straight to the west, they entered the domain of the Kingdom of Asturias.

Referencing the Vinland Map, the exploration fleet arrived at a port on the northern coast—Gijón Port. The place was desolate and dilapidated; the shore featured only a few rows of fishermen's wooden huts and the ruined remains of a lighthouse from the Roman era.

"Boss, is this the largest port in Asturias? Could we be in the wrong place?"

Helgi narrowed his single eye, observing the lighthouse missing its top and the stone fort standing on the distant hillside. "No mistake. This is it."

The exploration fleet dropped anchor. The flagship, Grey Parrot II, lowered a longboat that rowed unsteadily toward the shore. At this moment, a group of militiamen dressed in coarse linen hurriedly gathered at the pier. They were armed with wooden spears or a quaint style of short sword. Their equipment was crude, but their morale was high.

With the help of a translator, Helgi announced his identity and requested to open trade with the locals.

"Leave at once! Outsiders are not welcome here!"

A middle-aged noble wearing iron armor shouted harshly, driving the foreigners away.

Returning to the flagship, Helgi did not show much of a reaction. He explained to the sailors:

"Over a century ago, the Moors—a general term used in Western Europe for desert peoples like Arabs and Berbers—nearly conquered the entire Iberian Peninsula. A small number of Visigoths fled to the northern mountainous regions to persist in their resistance, eventually founding Asturias.

In short, this is a barren yet martial mountain kingdom. There is no need to clash with them. Even if we win, we won't reap any benefits."

The fleet continued onward, rounding the northwestern tip of Iberia before turning south.

The journey remained monotonous. Only the dull thud of billowing sails and the endless crashing of waves echoed across the sea. Words between the sailors grew increasingly sparse; they could not even be bothered to exchange glances.

Occasionally, someone would smack the deck in impatience, startling a few seabirds resting on the masts. They would flutter up, circle a few times, and land back in their original spots—as if even the birds had grown weary of this dull, tedious life.

Finally, on one scorching and tedious afternoon, a shout rang out from the lookout post at the top of the mast:

"A port! I see Lisbon!"

The lethargic figures on the deck instantly sprang to life as the sailors stumbled and rushed toward the port side.

In the distance, enshrouded by steaming heat and sea mist, a stone fortress stood atop a hill. White houses cascaded down like steps from the peak to the pier. The coastal walls wound along the shore, while massive flocks of white seagulls circled in the sky above.

"Send a semaphore signal! Have the two captains come over for a meeting!"

Out of caution, Helgi ordered the other two warships to drop anchor in the open sea while he steered the flagship toward the port to scout the way.

"So many ships."

Before them, the Tagus Estuary was moored with hundreds of dhows, a distinctive Arab ship design.

Ranging from thirty to sixty-five feet in length, these sailboats had slender hulls, sharply tapered bows, and square sterns with slightly elevated aft decks.

Compared to Britain's two-masted brigantines, the dhows had shorter masts and smaller hulls. Their cargo capacity was similar to an ordinary Knarr ship (about one hundred tons). Their main advantage lay in their unique triangular sails, which offered exceptional upwind performance and far greater flexibility than the Knarr ships popular in the North Sea.

Helgi turned around, examining the flagship he stood upon:

The foremast and mainmast were rigged with square sails, and a fore-and-aft sail was added behind the mainmast. This effectively enhanced its upwind maneuverability, but it still could not match the upwind performance of a dhow.

"If a naval battle breaks out, these dhows will pose a considerable threat. Our warships could take on three at most; any more, and we wouldn't be able to handle it."