Viking: Master of the Icy Sea

Chapter 276: The Varangian Guard

After disembarking, the five hundred mercenaries headed to the camp to register their names. Niels was taken separately to a mansion, where a dedicated high-ranking eunuch taught him the formal court etiquette for his audience.

"First, take off these filthy clothes and armor, and scrub your body thoroughly. You smell worse than a beast rolling in a pigsty."

The eunuch covered his mouth and nose, gesturing for four low-ranking servants to strip Niels of his black cloak, chainmail, and undergarments that had not been washed in ages.

Amidst Niels's dissatisfied complaints, he was pushed into a steaming bathhouse. The servants repeatedly scrubbed his body with bristle brushes until his skin turned as red as a boiled shrimp.

After what seemed like an eternity, he wrapped himself in a bathrobe and left the suffocatingly stuffy bathhouse. Outside the door, two young eunuchs held a brand-new set of expensive lamellar armor, a crimson cloak, and a single-edged longsword known as a "Varangian Axe", its hilt inlaid with gold.

Once properly dressed, Niels followed the eunuch to learn the various protocols. The core of it was the prostration ritual, which required him to throw himself entirely to the ground three consecutive times, touching his forehead to the floor and kissing the tip of the Emperor's boot.

"Do not make such an expression. This is an opportunity an ordinary person would beg for their entire life. Hurry up and do it! Ever since Emperor Diocletian invented this ritual during his reign between 284 and 305 AD, it has been used continuously for centuries. Countless nobles and generals have gone through this exact process, and you are not entitled to be an exception."

Left with no choice, Niels forced down his humiliation and imitated the eunuch's posture, practicing it repeatedly before moving on to the next step.

"...Remember, after the audience, you must walk backward to leave. Pay attention to the details. Step exactly as I do, keep your eyes lowered at all times, and never look directly at the Emperor."

Busy until evening, Niels was still not granted a reprieve. After a hasty dinner, the eunuch taught him some common Greek eulogies, constantly correcting his intonation."Too loud! Do you think you are on a battlefield? Again."

"You mixed up the word order. Do it again!"

"The final syllable is wrong. Forget your vulgar Northern European pronunciation habits. It should be pronounced like this: the pitch slightly higher, but not overly shrill, and certainly not hoarse and low."

Working late into the night, relying on his excellent intelligence and sheer perseverance, Niels mastered the entire audience procedure and the eulogies. It was honestly more exhausting than fighting a war.

"Over twenty years ago, when my companions and I were summoned to the hunting grounds outside the city, there were not this many rules."

Having learned the details of that past event, the eunuch explained, "Back then, you were merely a group of outsiders with a status as lowly as weeds. You were not qualified to perform this audience ritual. Rest early tonight. You will have your audience with the Emperor tomorrow morning. Whether or not you can take over as the commander of the guard depends entirely on your performance tomorrow."

In the early hours of the morning, Niels was awakened by the servants. After running through the etiquette drills one last time, he boarded a carriage heading for the imperial palace.

Looking out the window, he saw dense, multi-story apartment buildings lining both sides of the street. The ground floors were shops, while the second and third floors were residential housing. Occasionally, they passed magnificent public buildings, such as bathhouses and the Hippodrome, all on a scale far grander than the imitations found in Londinium.

Entering the outer precinct of the palace, Niels underwent a thorough search before following the eunuch inside. Every short distance they walked, they would encounter mid-to-high-ranking bureaucrats dressed in luxurious attire, bearing lengthy and forgettable Greek titles. Titles such as "Logothetes tou stratiotikou" (Paymaster General of the Army) and "Logariastes tes Aules" (Grand Treasurer of the Court).

At these moments, the guiding eunuch would skillfully converse with them, introducing the origins of the stranger walking behind him.

Feeling the weight of numerous curious gazes, Niels grew rather awkward, feeling as though he had become an exotic animal on display in a circus. Gradually, as he passed through countless courtyards and corridors, his head spun and he completely lost his sense of direction. He simply followed the eunuch forward until they finally arrived at a lavishly decorated grand hall.

After a tedious procedure, Niels walked into the hall with his head bowed and began the prostration ritual. As he approached the throne, mechanical birds perched on a golden tree nearby suddenly chirped, and golden lion sculptures on either side let out fierce roars.

In accordance with the eunuch's teachings from the day before, Niels maintained his kneeling posture and continued to complete the audience protocol.

After a long while, a question in Greek suddenly echoed from the throne. A translator standing nearby solemnly relayed, "Varangian, His Majesty bids you to raise your head."

'Was this part of the procedure?'

From the corner of his eye, Niels glanced at the eunuch kneeling beside him. The latter quickly shot him a look, signaling for him to obey the Emperor's command.

Taking a deep breath, Niels lifted his head and looked directly at Michael III.

The Emperor, draped in intricate jewelry and an expensive purple robe, possessed a tall and well-proportioned figure. He had dark, Mediterranean-style curly hair, a smooth and youthful face, and a short beard on his chin. His eyes were restless and lively, and the corners of his mouth curled up slightly.

Niels sighed inwardly, 'Flippant in manner and frivolous in style. Is this the man I am about to pledge my loyalty to?'

The next moment, the translator relayed the Emperor's inquiry. "It is said that a cruel and tyrannical Viking monarch has risen to power in Western Europe, bearing the moniker 'North's Serpent'. Do you know of him?"

Niels replied evenly, "I know him. His name is Wig Teyne. Twenty-one years ago, Ivar, Bjorn, myself, Wig, Gunnar, Om, Rurik, and several others traveled to Constantinople to trade. During that time, we were summoned to the hunting grounds outside the city. At the behest of the Empress Dowager and Bardas, Wig engaged in a duel before the throne with someone."

Suddenly, the Emperor burst into laughter and looked at the attendant beside him. "I remember now! Basil, that was the duel you lost all those years ago."

The attendant replied, "Yes, Your Majesty."

Touched by these past memories, the Emperor's interest was piqued. He had Niels recount his experiences over the years in detail, even calling for a map of Western Europe to be brought out, uttering occasional gasps of admiration.

In the end, he ordered the eunuch to pour a cup of wine for this highly experienced Varangian. "According to your own account, you excel in command ability and archery. Are you the best candidate for the commander of the guard?"

"Aside from Wig, the King of Britain, and Gunnar, the Duke of Normandy, my command abilities are second to none among the Vikings," Niels stated. "Last year, I defeated the army of the King of East Francia, completely annihilating their heavy cavalry, and even captured a royal standard known as 'Gnutz's White Raven'. If you do not believe me, you can have your officials ask around the Viking settlements in the city for news."

"There is no need. I am attending the chariot races later, and I do not have much time to waste." The Emperor looked down upon the Frankish barbarians; defeating them was not a boast-worthy achievement in his eyes.

Stroking the short beard on his chin, he instructed his attendants to fetch a dozen bows and arrows. "Prove your archery skills, and the position of Akolouthos—Commander of the Guard—shall be yours."

Such a test posed no difficulty for Niels. He picked up a yew bow and, following the Emperor's instructions, consecutively struck several wine cups set up across the courtyard. He remained completely composed throughout the entire display, as if the feat were as effortless as eating or drinking.

"Very well, Niels. Effective immediately, you officially take over as the Commander of the Varangian Guard."

Perhaps eager to watch the chariot races, Michael hastily announced the appointment, ordered an attendant to draft the royal edict, and briskly walked away.