"Explain?" Vig picked up the fallen golden candlesticks, looked at the elaborate painted designs on the walls on either side, and replied casually:
"When two sides fight, there will always be prisoners in the hands of the other side. Perhaps Elaud captured a few Vikings and tortured them to find out the location of the fleet, that's all." "
Do you think I'm stupid?" Eric threatened furiously: "Someone wanted the crown of Northumbria, so he deliberately leaked the location of the fleet, lured the enemy into burning it, and forced over 2,000 Vikings to stay and fight. If this news gets out, how many people do you think will believe it?"
When they set out from Gothenburg, there were only 3,500 Vikings. After months of fighting, there were only a little over 2,000 left. According to Eric's prediction, once this vile lie was revealed, most of the Vikings would side with him.
"Ragnar Lothbrok, Ivar the Boneless, and you, Vig the Chosen, I know you are famous. But your fame cannot save you."
Eric changed his hand gestures. "How many people would side with you if they knew the truth? A hundred? Two hundred? Or three hundred?"
"More."
Vig pointed to the camp outside the city. "You forgot about the 2,700 prisoners in the camp. I asked Nils' men to seize the warehouse and be ready to give them weapons at a moment's notice. The prisoners do not care who revealed the location of the fleet. These people only know that you are going to kill them all, but Ragnar protects them. If a fight breaks out, on whose side do you think the prisoners will be?"
Has this man gone mad?
King Eric was very surprised to find that Vig was trying to persuade the English to side with him, to fight against his Vikings.
"Okay, okay, it turns out that it was all premeditated. It seems you are more suited to the role of the cunning and sneaky Englishman."
Vig: "On purpose? How good can you be? When we are together, either you plot against me, or I plot against you. Your brother inherited the throne of Oslo. Legend has it that he was once bewitched by an evil demon and jumped off a cliff. Perhaps the so-called evil demon did not exist from the very beginning to the end, and it was just an excuse for the good brother." "
Vig, you should talk less." Seeing that Eric was speechless from being squeezed, Ragnar stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his shoulders.
"Erik, we are family. Sora is your favorite sister and my favorite wife. I don't know how upset she would be to hear the news of her brother and husband killing each other."
Using his wife to bring them closer, Ragnar proposed that they continue to work together in the future. Eric returns to Oslo to become King of Norway, and stays in York to become King of Northumbria. The future is bright for all.
"Work together or fight? It's up to you."
...
As night fell, Eric and Ragnar walked out of York Minster under the gaze of many worried people, their arms around each other's shoulders and smiling as if they were a pair of close brothers.
"For Ragnar, the great Viking hero, no one else is worthy to be King of Northumbria." Eric raised his right hand and publicly acknowledged his right to rule.
In response, Ragnar also shouted at the top of his voice: "For Eric, the unique ruler of the Norwegian region, may Odin bless his family."
In the cathedral behind the two of them, Vig was in the shadows, quietly watching the noisy crowd, his eyes deep.
As expected, the next step was the decisive division of the spoils. He had planned and taken part in this dangerous adventure, hoping to get a satisfactory share of the spoils.
...
In the palace, which was left with a large pool of blood, the middle and high leaders of the Viking army held a grand celebratory dinner. The nobles enjoyed the food to their heart's content, but abstained from their favorite wine and mead.
Apparently, they were all looking forward to the next meeting and did not dare to let alcohol cloud their judgment.
The candlelight flickered, and it seemed as if everyone was whispering. Their shadows projected onto the walls on either side, waving fangs and claws, changing unpredictably like demons from hell.
Vig sat in the middle of the long table on the right, his face calm, for he had stayed in the church to listen to the negotiations of the two kings. Many had come to hear news and ask what the future of this land would be.
"I do not know, and I have no right to interfere." He kept his mouth shut, even to Ivar, who was closest to him.
At that moment, a thin, fair-faced Anglo-Saxon nobleman in a black linen robe entered the hall. Ivar recognized him at first sight: "Pascal?" Noticing the
the angry looks of the crowd, Pascal adjusted the sapphire brooch on his chest, walked slowly to the throne, dropped to one knee, and swore fealty to Ragnar as the new King of Northumbria.
After the ceremony, Ragnar helped the man up and introduced him to the crowd: "Pascal, the hereditary Lord of the Tees, is familiar with the situation in Northumbria. I intend to appoint him Chancellor of the Exchequer."
Amid many anxious eyes, the two kings led Pascal into a room on the right side of the hall. After they left, the whispers around the table quickly degenerated into arguments, especially with the seven surviving nobles.
As shareholders in this robbery, they had contributed labor and had to bear an extremely high risk to their lives. Now that the matter was at an end, the two kings left them and entered a secret room to talk in private. They would rather take the recently surrendered Angle than trust their Vikings, and they simply don't care about their faces.
"That Anglo-dwarf is skinny and white. I don't think he can even defeat a shieldmaiden. Why should he be Chancellor of the Exchequer!" Leonard slammed his wine glass down on the table several times, angrily accusing the two kings of breaking the rules.
"Exactly," Ulf bit his pig's leg viciously, "and let him keep the hereditary territory of the Tees. By the way, where is the Tees? Isn't it in the south?"
Throughout the British Isles, the further north you go, the more rugged the terrain and the colder the climate, while the land in the south is flat and fertile, so it is favored by a group of nobles. Especially Manchuria, Leeds, Sheffield and the lands around the mouth of the Humber.
When the hereditary territory was mentioned, the nobles immediately became excited. Leonard showed off his contribution to prove that he was worthy of Manchun, a settlement with stone walls.
"When I set out, my territory brought a total of 320 people, including 40 sets of iron armor and 70 bows and arrows..."
From this point on, the initially pitiful atmosphere of celebration disappeared, and the contradictions were completely exposed. Some people said that they contributed ten long boats, and some boasted that they contributed 5,000 feather arrows. Each of the seven people had their own arguments, and they were unwilling to give in to each other.
The nobles fought for power and profit, and those who had not yet come to power were even more anxious. Nils stayed by Vig's side, constantly asking Ragnar and the other two what they were doing in the secret room.
"What else can we do? As an outsider, Ragnar's first order of business is to find out the general situation in Northumbria," Vig frowned, stroking his chin with his right hand several times. "That will probably take a long time, so be patient."