Chapter 13 Hunting Grounds
The Emperor is only a year and a half old and he can't even speak. Why is he looking for us?
Vig complained secretly. At the cavalry's insistence, he and his companions squeezed into the carriage. Looking at the landscape that was quickly receding outside the window, he suddenly discovered that the carriage was heading out of the city.
"It's strange, the palace is on the coast of the southeastern city, why take us to the west."
In Vig's bewildered eyes, the carriage drove through the noisy city and arrived at the towering Constantine Wall. After passing through the city gates, the convoy walked some distance and finally arrived at the outermost fortification of Constantinople - the Theodosian Wall.
This world-famous fortification has two layers, an inner and an outer. The inner wall is about twelve meters high and is made of large pieces of hewn limestone. Every fifty meters there is a square tower about twenty meters high.
The outer wall is relatively low, only about eight meters, and behind the city there is a ditch twenty meters wide.
Vig swallowed hard: "What a powerful fortification."
Assuming that he was an attacker, in the absence of heavy siege artillery, neither a catapult nor a crossbow would be enough to destroy the fortification. He could only use tens of thousands of infantry to attack the city by force or attack from the sea.
But if you think about it, the difficulty of attacking from the sea is even greater. The secret weapon of the Eastern Roman Empire, Greek fire, has a miraculous effect on wooden hulls. During the heyday of the Arab Empire, the navy had an absolute numerical advantage and twice besieged Constantinople, but was badly defeated by this secret weapon and was forced to abandon the conquest of the Eastern Roman Empire.
...
Two hours later, the convoy arrived at its destination. Vig jumped off the wagon and found that there were many purple tents on the hills to the west, and a large number of guards were stationed at the foot of the hill. Flags were fluttering and spears were like a forest, as if the annual autumn hunt was taking place.
"Finally, you are here."
The butler appeared out of nowhere and led the Vikings to the hill. On the way, he briefly introduced the situation.
"Earlier this year, the magister was going to send an envoy to contact the Russians and invite them to fight the Penecheg tribe on the pasture, in order to prevent these nomads from occasionally harassing our settlements on the northern shore of the Black Sea, which would seriously affect the grain imports in the north. Unfortunately, the envoy was killed halfway. Since you fight well, the Master wants you to accompany the next batch of envoys on their return journey."
After listening to him, Rurik explained to his companions in Norwegian, and Vigger's tense heartstrings finally relaxed.
"So this is just an escort for the envoys. If you hadn't told me before, I would have been worried."
...
After the search, the caravan members were brought to the top of the hill. Led by the butler, they saluted the one-year-old baby in the purple robe on the throne.
For some reason, His Majesty the Emperor was not intimidated by these tall Vikings. He clapped his small, meaty hands and laughed stupidly, causing the dignitaries around him to laugh along, and the initially tense atmosphere was relieved.
Vig lowered his head and watched his surroundings out of the corner of his eye. He secretly guessed:
"To the left of the emperor sits a middle-aged woman, dressed in a purple robe and smiling reservedly. She is surrounded by many noble ladies. She must be the Queen Mother Theodora. The middle-aged man on the right looks into the eyes of the butler. He must be the emperor's uncle Bardas. In addition, the man on the right has an arrogant look. Behind the seat stands a group of well-dressed nobles. This must be the minister Dioctistus."
At this time, the Queen Mother raised her glass and gestured for Rurik to recount the incident from beginning to end. Soon, upon learning that Vig had fought the nomads alone, killed ten men and scared off the remaining four, she suddenly turned her head and whispered something to Bardas.
The next moment, Bardas's smile faded. "Since the Queen Mother suspects that the Vikings are lying, why not choose a soldier to fight him. Last month I bought a Damascus steel sword, which is just the right gift for the winner." "
Well, let's fight." The Queen Mother looked at the nobles present and asked if anyone wanted to fight.
Behind her, a noblewoman from Patras recommended her guards. The Queen Mother agreed and asked them to fight with blunt swords.
From Vig's point of view, this opponent, named Basil, looked to be about thirty years old. By Greek standards, he was of average build and about three or three inches shorter than he was.
Judging by the man's gait and eyes, he did not look like a swordsman. Was he deliberately hiding his skills?
"Let's begin. Don't make your majesty wait too long." The Queen Mother said casually, and then raised the glass in her right hand, signaling the eunuch to pour wine.
Seeing this, Vig looked at him sternly, and he took a large step forward. With this strength, he raised his sword and slashed diagonally from top to bottom. The opponent raised his sword to block, but he didn't expect that this Viking barbarian was surprisingly strong, and his body couldn't help but stagger.
Taking advantage of this opportunity, Vig instinctively used the body of the sword to move the opponent's blade, and then gently raised it, like a poisonous snake spitting out its tongue, and the tip of the blunt sword quickly struck the opponent's right wrist.
Before the others could react, the man's blunt sword had already fallen to the ground, and the contest was declared over. The speed was so fast that even the Queen Mother's wine glass did not have time to fill in time.
Among the many surprised eyes, even Vig himself was stunned: "Am I really that strong? Not really?"
He looked around stupidly, staring at the bronze mirror nearby, and fell into a daze. He discovered that in the last six months he had grown much taller, and the remnants of his childishness had disappeared, and he had turned into a tall, strong Viking.
"Okay, I knew that Nordic people were bad at lying. Go ahead, bring me that Damascus steel sword." Despite the slight irritation on the Queen Mother's face, Bardas laughed loudly, and even Emperor Michael laughed.
In the ensuing discussion, Bardas's proposal to support the Russians was approved by the majority. For him, today he had not only achieved his goal, but also quelled the Queen Mother's arrogance. This autumn hunt could not have been more perfect.
...
Back in the warehouse, Vig carefully examined the recently acquired Damascus steel sword. It weighed about the same as a regular one-handed sword. The blade was about 80 cm long, with a blood groove near the guard, and the surface was covered with sinuous and intricate patterns. A dark red garnet was inlaid on each side of the hilt.
Next to him, Rurik exclaimed: "You are very lucky. This sword is both strong and sharp. It can be called the best weapon in the world. Have you come up with a name for it? I think Oathkeeper, Assassin, and Widow's Wail are all good."
Vig stared at the magnificent designs on the sword and felt like the sword was burned by the dragon's breath in a fantasy novel. After much thought, he decided to name it "Dragon's Breath."
"What a strange name, forget it, anyway, this sword belongs to you."
Rurik yawned and asked everyone to count the property they received as a reward from Bardas. To be precise, it should be a reward for hiring them to accompany the envoy.
After the inventory was completed, he looked up at the starry night sky and sighed: "The profit from this trip is equivalent to eight regular trips. With this wealth, I will be able to end my business career early and pursue the ideals that my heart truly desires. Phew, I didn't expect this day to come so soon."