Vikings: Lords of the Ice Sea

Chapter 157: Follow authority in urgent matters

Mid-April, Londonew.

Upon receiving Hafdan's plea for help, Ragnar was somewhat disappointed, "In the end, he can't compare to his two brothers."

The eldest son, Ivar, was arrogant and repeatedly insulted Queen Sora. After being reprimanded by his father, he never considered asking for royal reinforcements and instead went to war in Ireland alone.

Over the years, the island's nobles formed three encirclements, but Ivar was willing to mortgage his wife's jewelry to resist them, relying on his military talent to win against all odds and overcome difficulties time and time again.

The second son, Björn, explored the Mediterranean, pioneered Iceland and Greenland, and did not rely on his father's help, but instead made a name for himself through his own efforts.

Listening to their husband's lament, the two queens remained silent. They had witnessed Hafdan's dissolute years at court and his disastrous defeat in Wales, and they didn't take him seriously at all.

In an instant, a similar thought flashed through their minds: "All talk and no action, all brute force and no substance, far inferior to my son Uber/Sigurd."

On the throne, Ragnar recalled the faces of his many vassals and decided to send one to the rescue.

Ivar? I heard that the eldest son recently conquered another territory and newly enfeoffed more than thirty secondary vassals. I'm afraid he won't have the time to spare.

Vig? He initially took in a group of Welsh bandits who had once wounded Hafdan in the arm, after which their relationship cooled and they found it difficult to cooperate.

Ezekiel Wolf? Of all his vassals, he was the only one with a good relationship with Hafdan, but he was too old to withstand prolonged turmoil.

Theowuff's military skills are too poor, not much better than Hafdan's, and he is unsuitable for war. Gunnar is currently helping the French king deal with rebels in Brittany and is also tied up.

These men are unsuitable; Ragnar is considering earls of the next rank. Suddenly, Nils, the commander of the Royal Guard, volunteered for battle.

"Uncle, send me over. I haven't been back to my hometown for many years. It's a good opportunity to go back and take a look around."

“Okay,” Ragnar agreed.

After expansion, the Royal Guard had 2,000 infantry and 500 cavalry, all equipped with iron armor. Considering that warhorses were inconvenient to travel by boat, he allocated 1,500 infantrymen and ordered Nils to conscript local militia, bringing together more than 2,000 men, enough to quell the unrest in Sweden.

"Yes!"

Upon receiving the order, Nils instructed his lieutenant, "White Hair" Oleg, to prepare ships and supplies. He himself rushed back to Nottingham overnight, using all his savings to recruit 1,500 militiamen, and later recruited many idle raiders in Rendynewum, bringing the total number of men, including sailors, to 4,000, far exceeding Ragnar's expectations.

The king was deeply moved upon hearing his subordinates' report.

"This kid is a conscientious person. I must make it up to him after the war. Hmm, blood relatives are the most reliable."

In early May, having gathered ten cokers and seventy Viking longships, Nils led his expeditionary force from the Thames, along the coastline to Dover, and then across the English Channel to Calais on the other side.

When venturing into Northern Europe, the most important thing is to be safe. The fleet dared not take risks and sailed northeast along the European coastline, then rounded the Jutland Peninsula (Denmark) and arrived at Skahn, the northeastern corner of Denmark.

Denmark and Sweden are separated by the Kattegat Strait. Sailing eastward from Skahn, it's just over forty miles across the sea to Gothenburg, a journey that takes only half a day with favorable winds. It's currently afternoon, and the fleet plans to rest for the night before crossing the sea the following morning.

"Phew, finally back."

Niels stood on the stern of the Kirk, greedily breathing in the air of his homeland. In the distance, the gray-blue water surged endlessly, and two black-backed seagulls circled back and forth, their cries torn into fragments by the sea breeze. Further away, the indistinct Swedish coastline could be vaguely seen.

Suddenly, Vice Admiral Oleg came to his side and reported the situation of the expeditionary force to his superior: "Aside from the wounded and sick, there are 3,900 men left. The hold of a Kirk is leaking, and some of the grain has been soaked and contaminated. I am arranging for the sailors to plug the leak."

"It's alright. We'll set off tomorrow morning. I'll lead the flagship, and you can follow at the rear."

"Understood." Oleg accepted the order and took his leave. Perhaps due to overwork, he had been somewhat restless these past few days, as if a strange atmosphere permeated the army.

Am I overthinking it?
The next morning, the sea fog dissipated, and the sky was clear and blue. The crew raised the anchor and prepared to sail east. Suddenly, they heard the count draw his longsword and slash fiercely at the air, his eyes filled with fanaticism and bloodlust, like a ravenous wolf.

"Pass down the order: the entire army, follow me south! The enemy is in Denmark, in Aalborg, in Schleswig! Wealth and glory are within reach. Who is willing to gamble with me?"

Seeing this, the shield guards drew their longswords and echoed the count's shout in unison, "All troops, march south! The enemy is in Denmark! The enemy is in Schleswig!"

Terrified by the group of enthusiastic and excited soldiers, the sailors dared not disobey orders. While maneuvering the flagship to turn, they also made sure to notify the ships behind, passing the orders back one by one.

"The enemy is in Denmark!"

"The enemy is at Aalborg!"

Starting from the flagship, the commander's orders were relayed backwards, eventually reaching Oleg's ears.

He took off his helmet and listened for a full half minute, remaining stunned for a long time. "Niels has gone mad. What is he trying to do?"

His confidant turned pale with fear, but also felt a surge of excitement. "The Lord of Nottingham wants to plunder Denmark and make a fortune."

Oleg suddenly realized, “No, no, during this time, I heard some Anglo militiamen on the ship mention that Niels was recruiting militiamen on a large scale in his territory and mortgaging a large amount of land to merchants to raise funds to purchase equipment. Rescuing Hafdan was a pretense; his real intention was to seize Denmark.”

Having discerned his superior's ambition, Oleg resolved to stop him. At midday, the fleet docked at a river estuary to rest, and Oleg found Nils and publicly accused him of his ambition.

Ignoring the longsword drawn by his lieutenant, Niels calmly replied, "Yes, my plan is to conquer Denmark and then rescue Hafdan. If you do not wish to follow, you can lead the Royal Guard ahead."

Deep down, the so-called rescue was just a pretext; Nils had always looked down on Halfdan. A good-for-nothing defeated by Welsh bandits, he only knew how to cause trouble by relying on his father's power, and wasn't worth wasting his time on.

Niels glanced at the Imperial Guard officers and offered his suggestion:
"The Imperial Guard is His Majesty's property, and I have no say in it. The remaining militia comes from my territory, and the raiders are hired by me; you have no right to take them away."

"You're insane! His Majesty will not let you get away with this!" Oleg sheathed his sword and left the scene in a grimace, Nils's reply echoing behind him.
"In this urgent situation, I have no choice but to take the plunge. I would rather die in Denmark than waste my time in Londenium."

(End of this chapter)