Vikings: Nordic women

Chapter 54 Surrender or Die
After spending a night at sea, the next afternoon, a huge fleet of more than 40 sailing ships slowly sailed towards the Faroe Islands.

Margaret stood at the bow, with fine grains of salt still stuck to her face, which were formed after drying after washing her face with sea water.

She looked out at the alarm bells ringing in the distance, where the enemy troops were quickly gathering to prepare for the upcoming battle.

She smiled softly, her eyes revealing her disdain for the upcoming confrontation.

The ships on the side were connected by ropes, making the entire fleet closely connected.

Sven and the other lords, one after another, came to Margaret's side by exchanging places with Huscarz, Margaret's right-hand man.

"Your Majesty, how do you plan to capture this island?" Sven asked curiously.

Margaret looked at him in confusion and asked, "Capture? Why do we want to capture?"

The lords exchanged confused looks, clearly surprised by her answer.

"Remember," Margaret continued, "any battle has a price. As lords, we should do our best to protect the lives of our men."

"So what are your plans?" Sven asked.

Margaret took a deep breath and said, "I need an envoy to convey our goodwill to them. If anyone is willing to stand up, I will reward him with a fiefdom after I capture the Ross region."

Her proposal immediately aroused the interest of the lords, and they began to quarrel, each wanting to be the chosen messenger.

"Quiet!" Margaret's voice echoed in the fleet. She tapped the side of the ship with her scabbard to attract everyone's attention. "I only need one soldier!"

She couldn't pay the price of possibly losing a lord.

Her eyes swept through the crowd and finally stopped at a soldier standing in the front. She pointed at him and ordered simply: "Come here!"

The soldier was stunned at first, then pointed at himself, confirming Margaret's order. His face was instantly filled with ecstasy, and he hurried towards Margaret.

"What's your name?" Margaret asked.

"Yerma, Your Majesty!" the soldier replied with a hint of excitement in his voice. He was the warrior who had persuaded Sven to wear a helmet before setting off.

Margaret looked at him deeply and said, "This is a dangerous mission. Listen, convey my words, and don't change a word!"

She whispered the message that needed to be conveyed to Yerma, and then the soldier took off his helmet and leather armor, hugged an empty wine barrel, and jumped into the sea without hesitation.

Whatever Yerma's fate, Margaret was ready.

If Yerma was unfortunately killed, she would use this incident to incite the anger of the soldiers and let them avenge their comrades in a mood of grief.

And if Yerma succeeds, then this battle may not need to be started at all. She can directly surrender the lord of Faroe Island and incorporate the island into her own territory.

After about ten minutes of hard swimming, Yerma finally reached the shore.

The enemy soldiers pointed their spears at him, grabbed his clothes fiercely, stared at him and asked: "Who are you and what do you want to do to us? Tell me quickly, or we will cut off your ears!"

Yilma violently shook off the other's hand and responded fearlessly: "Let go, be polite! Our fleet has more than thirty yals and an army of three thousand men. If I come to harm, my lord and king will immediately order revenge! I want to see your lord!"

At this time, an old man named Yar, who looked to be in his fifties or sixties, came out.

In this era, the freezing cold weather and poor medical care in Northern Europe made it rare for people to live to this age.

Old Jarre pondered for a moment, then nodded in agreement.

Soon, Yilma returned in a canoe and was enthusiastically pulled onto the sailing ship by Sven and the other lords.

He excitedly reported to Margaret: "Your Majesty, Jarl has agreed to negotiate! But he hopes that both sides can negotiate in a small boat in front, with only one soldier!" Margaret nodded in agreement. Her eyes fell on Ralph, who had a scar on his face. He was the most ferocious person here.

"Will you come with me, Ralph?" she asked.

Ralph thought for a moment, then nodded in agreement.

Margaret and Ralph rowed the boat towards the harbor.

Over there, old Jarre also boarded a boat and came with a tall soldier to meet Margaret.

On the sea, the two small boats gently bumped into each other. This place was beyond the range of arrows from both sides. Margaret looked carefully at old Jarre opposite.

Old Yar looked at her in confusion, then turned his gaze to Ralph on the side: "Sir, what is your purpose in coming here?"

He obviously mistook the person in charge.

Ralph shook his head and pointed to Margaret, who was treating a burr on her finger that had been accidentally pierced by a burr on the oar and had broken off in the flesh.

Old Jarre looked at Margaret in surprise, with a strange expression on his face.

She didn't look up and ignored him: "I'm giving you two choices now."

She continued to pick at the thorns in her hand as she spoke: "The first option is to go to war. I will destroy this town."

The tall soldier on the opposite side had already grasped the hilt of the sword, but Ralph was faster and he grabbed the other's hand.

The soldier's pupils shrank. A cold dagger was already pressed against his neck.

Margaret didn't seem to care about the threat. She continued, "The second option is to join us and get our protection. I will then reward you with a piece of territory."

She raised her head and looked towards the port town in the distance: "That territory will not be smaller than your current one. What do you think? Think about it. Either surrender or die."

Old Jarl did not answer immediately, his eyes were cast towards the huge fleet not far away with concern. The number of warriors on those sailing warships was far beyond what the port town could compare with.

Margaret finally picked the thorn out of her finger. She stood up, gracefully took off the necklace and put it on her finger.

Then, she stretched out her hand and looked at Old Yar firmly: "Now, kneel down and submit to me!"

Old Jarre's face was struggling, his eyes lingered on Margaret's hand, with a fierce gleam in his eyes, but then he tried to hide it.

Margaret saw all this and found it extremely interesting.

"Are you planning to kidnap me?" Her voice suddenly rang out, causing old Yar to raise his head suddenly, his eyes full of surprise, as if asking: How do you know?

"There's no harm in submitting to me, right?" Margaret continued to persuade, with an unquestionable majesty in her voice.

"How do I know if you are deceiving us? What if you attack us after you come ashore?" Old Jarre was still hesitant.

Margaret pondered for a moment, then put her fingers together and waved to signal the other party to look at the huge fleet in the distance: "If I wanted to attack you, you would be a corpse now. Do you really think you can fight against an enemy that is five times your size?"

Unresolved threats and intimidation are often more deterrent and influential than direct military action.

And this is exactly the effect Margaret wanted.

Because uncertainty and potential consequences often cause more fear and attention from opponents than actual events.

(End of this chapter)