Vikings: Lords of the Ice Sea

Chapter 265 State of War

June 15th, early morning.

The port was bustling and noisy, and the simple wooden dock creaked under heavy footsteps. Frode, carrying his backpack, followed the queue and boarded the Adventure Charlie in an orderly fashion.

Junior officers, clerks, and shamans were allowed to remain on deck but were not permitted to move around freely. Most soldiers were crammed into the hold, where they stayed with the piles of cargo.

Soon, the tide at the mouth of the Mersey River reached its highest point, and the sharp sound of horns tore through the noise of the harbor.

"Don't rush, it's not our turn yet!"

The captain reprimanded some of the eager crew members. After waiting for about ten minutes, he suddenly waved his arm, and two crew members turned the winch, slowly pulling up the heavy anchor.

Then, a huge square sail was raised from the mast, the oarsmen in the hold shouted in unison, and the oars moved rhythmically as the Adventure Charlie sailed out of the Mersey estuary. Ahead, the waves of the Irish Sea shimmered in the sunlight, reflecting countless tiny sparkles.

With a light wind, the Kirk sailed at a very slow speed, traveling all day along the northern coast of Wales, before anchoring at Holly Island in northwest Wales at dusk.

At this moment, the soldiers in the hold could no longer hold their breath and rushed onto the deck to breathe fresh air. Some requested to go ashore, but their superiors refused.

The dinner was quite delicious, a savory fish soup made from a stew of salmon and shellfish. Frode broke up some hard bread and soaked it in the soup, waiting for a long time until the bread was completely softened.

After dinner, the soldiers were bored, so they made their own fishhooks with needles and thread and went fishing, but they had little success and were sent back to the hold to rest by their superiors.

"Go to sleep early, or I'll get you!" The deputy company commander's roar echoed from the lower deck to the deck, sending chills down everyone's spine. Frode quickly spread out his thick wool cloak, lay down next to his comrade on the deck, and stared blankly at the dazzling starry sky above.

After a long while, Frod was awakened by a slight noise. He opened his eyes to find the sky dim and a small seabird standing to his left, occasionally pecking at the thick wool cloak in search of crumbs of hard bread.

After waving away the birds, Frode closed his eyes again. Just as he was about to fall asleep, a sharp brass whistle suddenly rang in his ears, startling him so much that he immediately sat up. His colleagues beside him reacted in a similar way.

"Even stricter than the school's drill instructors."

He mentally ranted, quickly folded his cloak and stuffed it into his backpack, then took his water bag and headed towards the stern deck, where the crew were hoisting barrels of fresh water from a small boat below.

After emptying the stale water from the leather water bladder, Frode filled a new bag with fresh water. He remembered his father saying that water in wooden jugs and leather water bladders was prone to spoilage and should be replaced with fresher materials.

However, iron kettles were prone to rust, copper kettles were expensive, lead kettles were harmful to the human body, and silver kettles had strong antibacterial properties and were not prone to rust, but their only drawback was their extreme cost. After careful consideration, Viger chose tin as the material for the standard-issue canteens in the military.

Before setting off, Frode heard that the Lundinium Armory was experimenting with a tin alloy formula and estimated that a large number of tin canteens would appear in the army next year.

As time passed and the sun rose high in the sky, the fleet sailed away from the Welsh coast and entered the Irish Sea with the gentle northeasterly winds.

Occasionally, a few humpback whales would appear on the sea, their spray attracting the crew's attention. At three o'clock in the afternoon, the convoy approached the east coast of Ireland, and a thick plume of black smoke rose from Cape Hoth, guiding their way. In the bay east of Duffield, many poor people walked along the mudflats carrying baskets, collecting oysters and other shellfish, hoping to sell them to the army for money.

When trading, locals prefer the standing army in black armor because they are the most disciplined and will pay for goods. The dukes' troops are of varying discipline, and the locals are always cautious when trading with them, fearing they will not only fail to make money but also get beaten up.

Upon landing at the dock, the 3rd Infantry Regiment moved into a temporary camp outside the city. Over the next few days, they were responsible for cutting down trees to expand the camp and accommodate the friendly forces that would arrive later.

On June 22nd, the last troops arrived in Duflin. That afternoon, the company commander took Frode to the market and bought ten barrels of seafood. At dusk, the quartermaster distributed beer and sugarcane wine.

Before the meal, Invallon raised a wooden cup filled with sugarcane wine and instructed all the soldiers:
"The army will depart tomorrow, leaving Dufilin, which means we are entering the war zone. The alert level is raised to the highest. I hope you will restrain yourselves and not do anything out of line."

After he finished speaking, the soldiers began to wolf down their food. Some used daggers to pry open the oyster shells, while others used knife handles to crack open the velvet crab's carapace, savoring the tender and delicate crab meat. Some, who were not used to seafood, opted for a broth made with smoked pork, sausage, and vegetables.

Frod wasn't a picky eater; he tried every dish. After eating his fill, he would sit cross-legged on the ground, holding a glass of sugarcane wine and lost in thought.

Upon closer inspection, the pale yellow liquid contained many cloudy suspended particles, which seemed to be unfiltered sugarcane residue. He took a sip, and the liquid tasted slightly sweet with a hint of burnt flavor.

"It's far inferior to wine, whiskey, and mead. If Uncle (Hosa) doesn't find a way to improve the process, sugarcane wine is destined to become just a commoner's drink."

The next morning, the reveille assaulted everyone's eardrums. Frode packed his bags, noticing the unusually serious atmosphere in the army. Suddenly, the army shaman whispered a reminder, "Why aren't you wearing armor?"

"What?" Frod looked bewildered. "I remember clerks are non-combatants, yet they have to wear armor while marching?"

The shaman rolled his eyes. "This isn't a rule, but rather a voluntary choice by the clerks and the shamans accompanying the army. The battlefield is full of unexpected dangers. If you don't want to be shot to death by an arrow, quickly put on your armor!"

Without time for breakfast, Frode picked up the black cloth armor and slipped it over his head. Then he used the side straps to pull the front and back together and tighten them to ensure that the armor fit his body snugly and wouldn't wobble.

Next, he put on his arm armor, picked up the ring-shaped arm guards and put them on his arms, securing them with straps. Then he tightened the belt around his waist at the outermost part of the cloth armor.

Finally, Frode put on his helmet and fastened the chin strap to prevent it from falling off while walking or fighting.

Dressed neatly, he hurriedly ate a few bites of hard bread and slipped into the ranks under the cold gaze of the deputy company commander. If he were a combatant, such a sluggish action would surely have earned him a few lashes from the whip.

After leaving Dufilin, rangers and small squads of cavalry were scattered on both sides of the marching column, on alert for any possible enemy attacks.

At noon, the bugle sounded in the central army, and the troops rested on the spot. Frode did not need to stand guard, so he chose a shady spot under a tree to sit down and rest, eating hard bread and salted meat with water.

Suddenly, a large group of cavalrymen escorted a man wearing a black cloak with a golden dragon as they passed by. The man paused for a moment, then walked away without saying a word.

(End of this chapter)