Being a Viking Isn’t Fun – Chapter 43

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Shio
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To the existing 800 Aros warriors, 120 each were added from Novgorod and Polotsk as escorts for the two Knyazes.

A total of twenty-six longships crossed the waters of Polotsk and headed towards the Dnieper River.

With two Knyazes who knew the geography well, we chose the shortest route between the two rivers, flipped the ships over, and carried them across the land.

Wasn’t it surprising? Carrying ships. This experience gave me a new perspective.

‘Bigger isn’t always better.’

The wisdom of our ancestors, human wisdom, was truly remarkable. I instantly understood why the Norsemen traversed the world with such small ships.

Ships that could even overcome land—such incredible mobility.

Moreover, I had worried about potential problems or shortages with portable food, but the Dnieper River was incredibly rich in fish.

With a bit of exaggeration, if you tried spear fishing, the fish would just jump onto the ship by themselves.

The elite soldiers from Novgorod and Polotsk were also skilled riverside fishermen and survival experts, which was a great help in our camping and food preparation.

This was why local people had to be conscripted. It was truly reassuring.

However, this rapid marching speed seemed strange to them too.

At first, they were amazed, but soon they gathered among themselves, whispering and glancing in my direction, or approaching our warriors who were off guard duty, seemingly asking this and that…

As long as it wasn’t rebellion, I planned to let them do whatever they wanted. Maintaining the morale of the warriors was the most important thing on such a long expedition.

Fortunately, although the second month of winter (Ýlir) had begun, the wind was not yet too strong, and the water on our path had not frozen.

The real winter would start in the third month, so we’d have to wait and see. Reflecting on past experiences, this seemed to indicate a mild winter. We really lucked out.

The Dnieper River flowed generously—perhaps the highest and widest among the rivers we had seen so far.

At this rate, it would be possible to operate a large-scale merchant fleet.

People from various riverside villages appeared here and there, gathering to watch our fleet of longships flowing leisurely along the current.

But with a clear destination in mind, we couldn’t respond to each of their greetings and silently continued downriver.

After repeatedly working and sweating with the warriors, who had now become accustomed to setting up makeshift camps, sleeping outdoors when the sun set, and setting out at dawn, finally, the warriors from Polotsk and Novgorod shouted towards a hill situated on the right side of the gently flowing river.

“Kyiv! That’s Kyiv!”

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866 AD, the second month of winter, Sun’s day (Sunnudagr).

The previous day had been washing day, so despite sleeping outdoors, we were in a relatively clean state as we docked our ships not far from Kyiv, which was perched on a high hill.

After neatly trimming my beard, which had grown quite a bit, and combing my hair down, a refreshing sensation enveloped my face as if I had been reborn.

But unfortunately, this was not the time to praise the virtues of washing.

“Konungr Hrorik! Jarl Miroslaw! What brings you to this distant place!?”

“Welcome, Konungr Hrorik!”

Haskuldr and Djur. As befits Varangians from Svealand, it was heartwarming to hear them call Knyaz Rurik ‘Konungr’ Hrorik. But for some reason, their eyes trembled with unease.

‘Were we unexpected guests?’

They seemed somewhat disgruntled, with expressions like those trying to hide a secret on the verge of being exposed.

“Haha! Haskuldr! Djur! It’s been a long time, my friends!”

Rurik, delighted to meet old comrades, burst into hearty laughter as he approached them, praising their efforts over time and reintroducing our group.

“Now, this here is Konungr Helgi Ragnarsson of Aros. He is the strongest (Sterk) among us. He is also the one to whom I have sworn allegiance, so there must be no negligence in serving him!”

“Is that so…! Konungr Helgi, please accept my greetings! I am Haskuldr, Jarl of this small and unremarkable village, Kyiv!”

“I greet you, noble one! I am Djur, also a Jarl of Kyiv!”

They seemed to have heard of my name before, as they hurriedly bowed their heads toward me, trying hard to hide their trembling eyes, which shook even more than when they looked at Rurik and Miroslaw.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, excellent Jarls. I am Konungr Helgi. I have forged a strong bond of brotherhood with Konungr Hrorik and Knyaz Miroslaw here, and I look forward to becoming close friends with you two as well.”

“We are grateful…! Konungr Helgi.”

Come to think of it, the titles here were quite a mess.

This was a more sensitive issue than expected, so for now, I’d just go with the flow and let it be.

I could sort it out all at once later when I was confident in my influence over this region.

Right now, I hadn’t come to swallow up this vast land, but because I had business in Miklagard.

…Though things seemed to be getting bigger somehow.

“Please come in! Though it’s a small village with little to offer, we will do our best to serve the noble Konungr.”

“Beer and bread will suffice. Now, let’s go in together.”

“Yes! Konungr!”

As we slowly followed the two Jarls, who hurriedly climbed the hill and ordered the villagers and guards who had been standing around to prepare a feast, I quietly gave orders to my aides.

“Refil, Oleg. Order the warriors to complete disembarkation not far from here, and let them rest appropriately while maintaining vigilance.”

“Yes, understood.”

“It shall be done.”

The two lieutenants who had firmly received my low-voiced orders hurried toward where the warriors were gathered.

As we reached the end of the path, which was clearly swept clean where people walked, amidst the village all white with fallen snow, a large, typical Norse-style longhouse finally appeared.

Haskuldr and Djur had probably built a structure familiar to them. Everyone had nostalgia for their homeland. They must have alleviated their loneliness in this way.

Although it was still bright daylight with the sun high in the sky, people were hurrying around the longhouse, which had smoke rising from it, preparing for the feast by carrying livestock, bread, and jars filled with alcohol.

I felt a bit sorry for causing trouble, but the thick skin on my face had long since reached an indestructible state.

The strange thing was, while the faces of the people I had seen so far in Novgorod and Polotsk showed wariness towards foreigners, they didn’t show fear.

However, the faces of the people here in Kyiv clearly showed fear.

‘They must have been raided, and quite recently at that.’

“Knyaz Rurik, Miroslaw. Whose sphere of influence did you say this area was?”

“This area was originally Khazar territory, but I’ve heard that the Magyars have been involved recently as well.”

“The Khazar territory is centered around Itil to the east. Recently, for some reason, there have been reports that the frequency of their cavalry appearing has decreased.”

“Then the Magyars might have moved in to fill that vacuum.”

“That’s right, my Konungr. Unlike ours, the territories of those horse-riding people are always changing, making them difficult to predict.”

Hmm.

To greatly expand and maintain trade routes, Kyiv, which is in a position to firmly control the waterways here, would need to come under our influence.

No. There was no need to rush.

There was no reason to draw too big a picture.

Right now, I should focus only on Miklagard. I could hear the details from the masters of Kyiv later.

As I organized my thoughts, we had finally climbed the fairly high hill and stood at the entrance of the large longhouse.

Soon, I stepped into the cozy banquet hall with a bright smile on my face and arms spread wide.

“Oh! The smell of roasting meat! Haha! We’ll feast well! Thank you, Jarl Haskuldr! Jarl Djur!”

“It’s nothing… Thank you, Konungr Helgi!”

“Please, come in!”

It was time to do the work of a Konungr.

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People often talked about bread culture and rice culture. It was a term used to describe one of the biggest differences between Europe and Asia.

I wasn’t sure why such a division had occurred, but it seemed bread suited my taste better.

‘Is this delicious?’

Perhaps hunger was the best seasoning. Despite the hastily smoked and grilled meat, the bread tasted far better.

The people who had initially seemed uncomfortable with my presence began to relax as I confidently took the seat of honor, devouring the food and drink mindlessly.

As they saw me ease into the meal, they too began to serve themselves portions and share stories of what had transpired.

Words about why news had been scarce, words of apology, questions about children, inquiries about wives…

Amidst all these sounds, the expressions of Haskuldr and Djur betrayed discomfort, like puppies who had knocked over a flowerpot without their owner knowing.

I decided to address their worries.

“Jarl Haskuldr, Jarl Djur, is there perhaps something you’re hiding from me?”

It was a brutal question, especially considering I was saying it while stuffing a third thick piece of bread into my stomach and licking my fingers.

For a moment, silence fell over the hall where gentle music had been playing, and the lively atmosphere vanished as if it had been a momentary mirage.

All eyes in the hall turned to me. Haskuldr and Djur quickly rose from their seats, prostrating themselves before me and bowing their heads.

These people had learned strange customs in foreign lands.

[Pour-]

I took two leather cups from beside me and poured beer—a drink with a very refreshing taste, well-fermented.

“Rise, Jarl Haskuldr, Jarl Djur. I feel no insult whatsoever.”

After gesturing once more for them to rise, they slowly lifted their heads. I handed them the cups as they hesitated.

“I’m not here to interrogate, but to solve problems. I will not harm you, so be at ease and drink this cup.”

“Th-thank you, Konungr. No, we’re sorry.”

“There’s no need for that, just drink the cup.”

“Yes, yes! Konungr!”

“Understood!”

I wasn’t sure what they were thankful for or sorry about. As I calmly watched them hastily drain their cups, I gestured to the minstrels in the banquet hall, which had fallen into a silence like that of a dead mouse.

“What are you doing? Haven’t you lost the mood? Poets, sing again.”

“Yes…! Konungr!”

[Ding- Diring- Diriring-]

“We, we drink for youth-, and for the days soon to come and go-!”

Following the poet’s trembling voice, the people in the banquet hall started to pretend to eat and drink, moving like unoiled robots, but it wasn’t important to me.

I had already eaten my share anyway.

What was more important were the stories these two men in front of me would tell.

Toward the two warriors trembling like mice before a cat, I asked once again in a gentle voice.

“Jarl Haskuldr, Jarl Djur. Although I am a foreigner in this land, as one who has received kindness, I only wish to help you. Now, can you tell me what’s happening here?”

Once again, the music cut off abruptly and the atmosphere sank.

Finally, in place of Haskuldr, who had his head deeply bowed, Djur spoke to me.

“It’s because of the Magyars and Khazars, my Konungr. What more can we report to the Konungr who has already seen through everything? The Magyars and Khazars are competing over our Kyiv. No, to be precise, Kyiv has been caught up in their competition.”

“Magyars and Khazars…”

Certainly, Novgorod and Polotsk’s power wasn’t great enough to influence Kyiv, and it had become even weaker due to internal strife. Moreover, wasn’t the lower Dnieper River originally Khazar territory?

What was more curious was the competition between the Magyars and Khazars. Why were these groups with similar names fighting?

“Before you arrived, Konungr, the son of the Magyar chieftain took furs. Now, the Khazars will send someone again.”

“No, then why didn’t you ask me for help, Djur? I thought we were like brothers, just not blood-related…!”

Rurik, very surprised at the hardships his old comrade was experiencing, cried out, but there was no answer from Djur and Haskuldr.

So I answered on behalf of the two Jarls who had their heads bowed.

“It’s because different thoughts arose after settling in this place far from Novgorod, Knyaz Rurik.”

“That’s…”

Rurik trailed off, unable to hide his feelings of disappointment.

But I had something else I was more curious about.

“Well, that son of the Magyar chieftain, what did you say his name was?”

“I will tell you… Konungr Helgi. His name was Árpád.”

“Árpád… Árpád…”

I needed to have a talk with that one. Now that the homeowner has changed, the contract should change too.

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[Shio here~!

I hope you guys enjoy.]