Viking: Master of the Icy Sea

Chapter 249: Sugarcane Rum

In Chawatu's view, Hrogeir was the Queen's younger brother. If he married off his eldest daughter to him, perhaps they could obtain the protection of the British Crown.

Hearing the chieftain's marriage proposal, Hrogeir vehemently objected. If his peers found out he had taken a native wife, he figured he would become the laughingstock of the entire kingdom.

"Lord Chieftain, I swear on my honor, as long as you let me go, I will do everything in my power to facilitate a peace treaty between you and the Earl."

Seeing his precious daughter rejected, Chawatu flew into a rage. He ordered his guards to throw the captive back into the cave, intending to starve him for a while.

After driving the captive away, Chawatu looked at Adrien. "Without a marriage alliance, will the Viking nobles honor their promise of peace?"

Adrien's expression grew solemn. "For now, yes. The goal of the nobles and Hrogeir is to grow sugarcane and make money, and the land they currently occupy is sufficient. However, in a few decades, as immigrants gradually increase, I suspect they will need more territory. When that time comes, the next round of conflict will erupt."

After starving for a whole day, Hrogeir was lethargic, but he firmly believed that the chieftain would not dare kill him.

'Over these past few days, the chieftain has invited me to his home as a guest multiple times. His tribesmen surely understand my special status. After a little more time, once this news catches Helgi's attention, he will definitely bring his men to rescue me.'

On the morning of the third day, Hrogeir gazed at the sunlight outside the cave, his expression somewhat dazed. The thought of yielding slowly took hold of his heart.

Just then, footsteps echoed from outside the cave, and the faint aroma of food lingered in the air. Hrogeir forced himself to sit up, coldly watching the Viking translator walk in. "The chieftain still intends to force me into marriage."Adrien looked awkward, unsure of how to reply for a moment. He set down a bowl of clean water and a small piece of bread—a portion barely enough to keep the captive from starving to death. "This is your food for today, my lord."

"Keep dreaming. I won't marry the chieftain's daughter. Just get it over with and give me a quick death."

Having delivered his harsh words, Hrogeir suppressed his inner agitation. Once Adrien left, he devoured the bread as fast as he could, slightly easing the hunger gnawing at his stomach.

Licking the spilled breadcrumbs off the ground, he lay back down on his bed, whistling to pass the time and praying that Helgi would receive the news soon.

A few days later, Helgi received relevant rumors stating that a chieftain named Chawatu was holding a prominent captive. Hope rekindled in his heart.

"Quickly, send someone to investigate. As long as Hrogeir is alive, I am willing to pay any price," he ordered.

After confirming the target was alive, Helgi led six hundred militia and two hundred Guanche auxiliary soldiers straight to the valley where Chawatu resided, intending to force them to release the prisoner.

At that moment, a low wall of logs and stones had been hastily erected at the valley entrance. Hundreds of Guanches, gripping wooden spears, stared in sheer terror at the Viking soldiers clad in iron armor.

"The Shaman said these men made a deal with demons, granting them shells immune to any attack," someone whispered.

"This isn't magic, it is a mortal creation. Thrust obsidian daggers into the gaps, and you can kill them just the same," another muttered.

Before long, the chieftain hurried to the low wall and proposed a negotiation with the opposing Viking leader. Helgi agreed.

Unexpectedly, Helgi did not oppose the marriage alliance. He was worried about a potential attack from the Berbers at any moment, making him desperate for peace.

Half an hour passed, and the two reached an agreement. They drew up boundary lines, agreed on monthly trade, and decided that young Guanches could be hired to work at the plantations and ports.

Chawatu asked, "What about Hrogeir?"

Helgi only cared about Hrogeir's safety and did not mind his personal feelings. He replied in a brisk tone, "I will send someone to persuade him."

Back in the cave, Hrogeir cried out, "I just want to do business! Why must you torment an honest and dutiful merchant?"

Helgi's betrayal crushed Hrogeir's fighting spirit and mental defenses. He deeply regretted investing in the Sugarcane Company. Had he known better, he would have just stayed in Britain and run his textile workshop.

After a hastily arranged wedding, Hrogeir brought his new bride back to the plantation. Seeing his gloomy expression, Helgi leaned in to console him:

"We have the Guanches within the archipelago, and the threat of the Berbers from the outside. We must stabilize the interior as fast as possible. For the sake of the Sugarcane Company, we had no other choice."

Helgi drafted a new development plan: utilize trade to gradually control the tribes of Sun Island, and leverage their manpower to slowly infiltrate the other islands. This would accelerate their development, much like the West Sea Fur Company's methods in Greenland.

Upon returning to the plantation, he gathered everyone to celebrate this hard-won peace. Hrogeir had no interest in joining the festivities and returned to his quarters with a dark scowl.

Looking at his new bride behind him, Hrogeir spoke in a flat tone. "This is your room. Later on, you can move to the port, or go back to your tribe. Forget it, you can't even understand what I'm saying. This is just a waste of time."

Stepping into the bedroom, he noticed a wooden bucket sitting in the corner. He lifted the lid and tasted the liquid inside. A refreshing, sweet aroma immediately filled his mouth.

"I guessed right. This stuff really can be brewed into alcohol."

With a new business opportunity right in front of him, Hrogeir's mood instantly brightened. He took a few more gulps of the freshly brewed sugarcane rum and went to find Helgi, who was currently drinking and making merry by a bonfire.

"I need to sign a joint agreement with you, selling all the molasses produced by the Sugarcane Company to me."

Their combined shares accounted for more than half of the company. As long as he convinced Helgi, Hrogeir could purchase this highly perishable molasses at rock-bottom prices and then reap massive profits.

Helgi lowered his skewer of roasted fish, looking thoughtful. "You found a way to process the molasses?"

"Yes. Don't refuse. This is what you and the company owe me."

Having suffered multiple setbacks, Hrogeir's personality had grown steadier, and he met Helgi's gaze openly. After a standoff lasting nearly a minute, Helgi nonchalantly nodded.

Perhaps afraid he might back out, Hrogeir immediately drafted a business agreement that allowed the Sugarcane Company to sell molasses at a practically give-away price. After both parties signed, Hrogeir finally felt at ease. He returned to his room, carried out the bucket of his homemade sugarcane rum, and distributed it for everyone to taste.

"Delicious! Pour me some more."

"Hey, this tastes great. How did you come up with it?"

Listening to the praises of the crowd, Hrogeir gave a casual excuse to brush them off. "My sister invented beer and whiskey, and I invented sugarcane rum, haha! It seems our family has been blessed by the gods."

With the conflicts settled, the fleet prepared to set sail for home. The holds were loaded with wool, wheat, bay leaves, and a very small amount of cane sugar.

Midway through their journey, the fleet stopped in Lisbon to purchase spices. By this time, the Moors were already aware of the Canary Islands' existence. The Governor summoned the fleet commander, Garros, to question the British Kingdom's true intentions.

Garros replied, "Your Excellency Governor, we are merely seeking to cultivate sugarcane, grapes, and citrus. Furthermore, the Canary Islands do not belong to any kingdom, so why shouldn't we occupy them?"

Even after hearing this, the Governor's suspicions were not dispelled. However, considering the naval strength of Britain, he decided to endure it for the time being and reported the news back to the royal court in Cordoba.