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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: FusionX
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“Army-! Prepare the army and horses-! Bring me my steed, Bucephalus! Army-!”
“Your Majesty…! Please calm down…!”
“Basiliskianos! Prepare immediately! Hic- Symbatios… Symbatios! That filthy Armenian…! How dare you-!”
“Your Majesty! Your Majesty! Oh my, what are the Scholae (Scholai, imperial guards) doing! Attend to His Majesty at once!”
“Yes!”
“Everyone, make way! His Majesty is passing, make way!”
‘…They’re going through a lot.’
At first, I thought it was a staged act. Rentakios and Basileios’s faces turning pale were so funny that I almost made a joke, but the atmosphere was too serious.
Michael, unleashing his fury in all directions, was like a ferocious lion.
A very drunk lion, that is.
And the high-ranking, nameless Romans around him, all making a fuss while their eyes darted around…
This… this was supposed to be the greatest court in Europe…? How were they not ruined yet…?
As I watched the emperor being carried away by his guards and the nobles gathering in groups to whisper amongst themselves, it seemed like no one was genuinely concerned about Symbatios’s rebellion. They were more interested in discussing what they could gain from the situation.
“Konungr Helgi. I apologize for showing you such… such disgraceful behavior, but it seems tonight’s banquet must end here.”
Unlike Rentakios, whose face was still pale, Basileios had quickly recovered and spoke to me in a low voice.
“Of course. Although I am a guest of Rome, please don’t hesitate to ask if there’s anything I can do to help.”
“Those are truly comforting words. Rome will remember your kindness, Konungr.”
His face wore a satisfied smile, but his eyes weren’t smiling at all.
“Then, I must excuse myself and return to my chambers. Symbasileis (co-emperor).”
“Safe travels, Konungr Helgi.”
With that reply, Basileios turned away first and exited the noisy banquet hall, followed by a swarm of guards.
‘It’s certainly different from a unified court. I can’t even count how many factions there are.’
The only clear supporters of Michael seemed to be Basiliskianos and a few Scholae who had just escorted him out… In this situation, it was natural for Petronas of Cherson, Damian, and others to be concerned about the emperor and the empire’s safety.
Symbatios, was it? What confidence did this man have to openly rebel so brazenly?
‘Well, it’s not bad for me. I can just lay low for a while. Maybe visit the library…’
There was no reason to stay in the banquet hall now that both emperors had left, and Rentakios had also disappeared. I turned and headed towards my room.
My guards followed behind me one by one: Refil, Storolf, Oleg, and Djur.
No Roman stopped the five barbarians as they confidently exited the hall. Some looked at us with curiosity, but they hadn’t finished their calculations yet.
“Refil. It seems Rome is about to become noisy. A rebellion has broken out.”
“A rebellion…? The timing is quite coincidental.”
Our Northmen expedition, a max-level warrior party.
Everyone believed more in the power of their fists than the power of words, and Refil, who always tried to maintain his composure, taking after his father, was overflowing with qualities of an advisor.
“Indeed. Anyone would think they planned it for our arrival. We need to strengthen our guard for a while. Tell the warriors to be careful as well.”
“It shall be done, Konungr.”
As we walked through the long corridors of Boukoleon, many eyes glanced at us, but no one could understand what we were saying. It was Old Norse, after all.
“Konungr. This might not be a plot aimed at us.”
Djur, who was more knowledgeable about the local situation than Refil and I, cautiously spoke up.
“…Go on.”
“Yes, Konungr. Everyone knows that the Roman emperor and those around him are not in their right minds. As Jarl Refil said, the timing is coincidental, but… those who felt threatened by your arrival might have made a hasty move.
For example, those who oppose the emperor gaining the support of the city.”
“Oh-”
“Hmm-”
Our Northmen, who preferred simplicity and were straightforward people, but by no means fools, let out exclamations of admiration in unison.
‘That certainly makes more sense. What would they gain by messing with a few Northmen?’
Of course, if anyone dared to point a sword at me, I would rip their arm off, but rationally speaking, there wasn’t much to gain from provoking us.
This was a plot aimed at the emperor…
“I appreciate your insight, Djur.”
“You flatter me, Konungr!”
Djur, you didn’t win your position as Jarl of Kyiv through gambling, did you? I’ll add you to my list of competent vassals, not slaves. He has a keen eye for politics, I’ll put him in charge of diplomatic affairs… memo.
“For now, it seems there’s not much for us to do, so everyone should rest well. But not as deeply as in Cherson.”
“Ahem-!”
“Uh-huh! Uh-huh!”
“Ahem-”
Everyone except Refil, Oleg, Djur, and Storolf coughed awkwardly in unison.
This was only because they were my lieutenants who always saw my face. The 120 warriors under them would be scouring the city for the women of Constantinople, stirring up trouble if given the chance.
I just hoped they wouldn’t cause any major incidents, considering they couldn’t even speak the language.
Of course, I didn’t think the discipline of Aros warriors was inferior to anyone else’s, but I felt like a parent watching their young children play by the water.
“Alright, it’s late. Everyone, return to your rooms. If you need more alcohol or food, just tell the servants and they will bring it to you.”
“Yes, Konungr!”
After forcibly sending them away, who had waited to see me safely enter my room, I gave words of encouragement to the two Roman soldiers guarding my door and entered my room, which clearly showed signs of meticulous preparation for guests.
If it weren’t for the flames rising from the beautiful yellow bowl, whether it was copper or brass, the starlight from the night sky would have poured into the room through the terrace.
I threw myself onto the bed across from the terrace, propped my head on my arm, and fiddled with the paper Rentakios had slipped into my sleeve.
‘He’s a capable man, that Rentakios. As soon as I heard about Symbatios, a rebellion broke out…’
I couldn’t help but chuckle as I remembered his smooth, beardless face turning pale.
‘Then, what about Basileios…’
I didn’t know the extent of Rentakios’s information network, but from what I had seen with my own eyes, the co-emperor Basileios was also a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at any moment.
‘Maybe he’s connected to Symbatios.’
Beyond the shadows dancing on the wall from the flickering flames, something massive lurked. A beast targeting Emperor Michael.
‘I’ll know more as time passes.’
After watching the dance of fire and shadows for a while, I closed my eyes.
Rome’s preparations for the expedition were lightning fast.
I remember them being called Scholae, the emperor’s personal guards. Were they all qualified to lead armies? They were running around with rolled-up documents or carrying papers stamped with the emperor’s seal.
The Boukoleon Palace, true to its name, transformed into a place where bulls and lions rampaged, and this vast city, preparing for war, awaited the festival of blood without a hint of panic. It was a natural progression.
Was this their resilience? Or simply a sign of how frequent wars were?
I didn’t know whether it was good or bad, but it wasn’t important to me right now.
“Konungr Helgi, great warrior of Hellas, son of Ragnar of the Svear and Danes. I am Yngvarr. Please accept my greetings…!”
“Oh my, please rise, brave Yngvarr. Since when did the leader of the oath-takers (Varangians) bow so easily?”
An old warrior, with a head full of white hair and beard but still possessing a strong and sturdy physique, came to my room and bowed. This was a custom not found in the north, proskynesis (προσκύνησις, Proskynesis).
Usually, it ended with kneeling and bowing one’s head, but this old warrior prostrating himself before me must have been a sign of his longing for his homeland and respect for the title of Konungr.
When I personally lifted him by the shoulders, tears welled up in his eyes, and his moist eyes shone with gratitude, but I pretended not to notice for the sake of the old warrior’s dignity.
“And you are not just the leader of the Varangians, are you, Jarl Yngvarr? I heard you are also the emperor’s father-in-law and a member of the Senate. That is by no means a lower position than mine.”
“How could you say such a thing…! My daughter now serves the god of this land rather than the old gods, but Odin and Hella are still alive in my heart.”
A necklace with the symbol of Hella emerged from beneath his Roman silk robes. It was a strange yet welcoming sight. Where did he get that?
As the Northmen warriors around me smiled in unison, Yngvarr, also smiling, continued.
“Since you have come this far, I believe you already know, but… there is a… disgraceful matter involving my daughter and the two emperors. So now I simply fulfill the contract between the emperor and me, between this city and me. My personal feelings have long since vanished.”
What was it about this beautiful city that made people so cynical?
Yngvarr’s face, dry as if all emotions had faded and faded until they turned gray, reminded me of co-emperor Basileios’s face from last night’s banquet, but he quickly hid his chilling demeanor.
“But Konungr, you are the son of Ragnar Sigurdsson, the avenger who fulfilled his vengeance. The rightful Konungr of the Northmen.
Although the Varangians of this city have all sworn to protect the emperor and the city, anyone who holds the old gods in their heart would want to follow you…!”
You are the strongest among us (Sterk), aren’t you?
I was a little embarrassed by Yngvarr’s following words, but seeing Refil and the other lieutenants puff up their chests and snort, I thought it wasn’t so bad.
If it could boost their pride, why not?
“Now, now. Excessive praise is not good when kinsmen meet after a long time. Come, let’s have a drink together. And tell me what’s on your mind.”
“As you wish, Konungr Helgi.”
I led the old warrior’s trembling hand to a simple table set up on the terrace, and Refil brought wine and two cups.
“Thank you, Refil. Why don’t you join us?”
“How could we, Konungr?”
If Bjorn were younger, he would look just like that.
As Refil turned to fulfill my instructions and offer wine to Storolf, Djur, and Oleg, who were sitting a little distance away from the terrace,
Yngvarr, who had been watching him intently, spoke in a low voice.
“He must be a warrior who inherited the blood of Ragnar Konungr. His face looks familiar.”
“You must have met my father, you have a keen eye, Jarl Yngvarr. Refil is the son of my brother, Bjorn.”
“Huh-. Now that you mention it, it’s true. That chin and those eyes are exactly like Jarl Bjorn’s.”
It turned out that the leader of the Varangians had met my father a few times when he was a child, accompanying him on expeditions.
Even though it had been a long time, since he had headed east before I was born, the old Northmen warrior said he could still clearly recall the faces of my father, Bjorn, and Ivar.
He would have been a bit older than Bjorn and Ivar, but younger than my father.
And the words that came out of Yngvarr’s mouth surprised me, who had been pleased to meet a kinsman after so long.
“So, the emperor wishes for me to join him?”
“That is correct, Konungr. Officially, it will appear as if you are personally stepping up to help the emperor and Rome in their time of crisis, but he has promised to reward you handsomely behind the scenes.”
This… he was asking me to become a Varangian?
Unofficially, at least.
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[here ya guys go from daddy fusion]
