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When the Mercian was brought to Ulf, except for his golden hair and thin figure, he didn't look like a Norse at all, but he could speak some Norse languages, as well as Britons. language.
"What's your name?" Ulf pointed at him with the ax and asked the strange man.
"My name is Tyron, and I am half Norse." The man said to Ulf eagerly.
"Half blood, you are just a bastard." But Vargas mocked unceremoniously on the side, and these words made Tai Lun's face turn red. If he hadn't been captured, he would have faced Vargas again. For a North warrior like Gus, he would definitely punch him without mercy.
"No, my father just married my mother." Tai Lun said defensively.
"Oh, you said you are valuable, what is your value?" Ulf nodded slightly and asked him knowingly.
"I understand the North language and the languages of the British kingdoms. I will definitely be of help to you. Please don't take me away and sell me." Tyron said to Ulf hurriedly.
"But there are many people like you, and I don't see how valuable you are." Ulf shook his head gently and said to Tyron.
"Uh, me, me." Tyron's face suddenly turned pale. He knew that what Ulf said was right. In this Middle Ages where there was no concept of country, the Britons under the rule of the Vikings would also pay tribute to the Vikings. The people of Beijing paid taxes, and some smart squires even found benefits from it, and their children began to learn this rough Norse language.
"Visad, this man is under your control from now on." But Ulf caught Tyron and pushed him to the old slave Visad, asking him to discipline the young half-breed.
"Thank you, sir." Tai Lun originally thought that he would be thrown into the longboat like other slaves, across the vast sea, and would never be able to set foot on his homeland again, but the next moment Ulf took him in. Got him.
For Ulf, although it is entirely possible to hire a local translator, free slaves are easier to control and use.
After Guzrun defeated the army of the King of Mercia, he was not in a hurry to attack the city because he knew very well that after losing his army, the king of Mercia had no power to fight back, and Guzrun would pass Negotiations squeezed Theowulf bit by bit and encroached on his land.
"Lord Ulf, we don't need to gather all the troops in one place at the moment. I have chosen a village for you that can fully support your army. There you can wait for my next order or do whatever you want." Gutz Ren summoned Ulf in front of him and said to him.
"But I remember our agreement. Once the battle here is over, my companions and I will go to the White Shirts." Ulf said to Guzrun.
"That's right, but White Shirt is in Ireland at the moment, and the army here is led by his adopted son. Are you going to obey his command?" Guzlen shook his head and persuaded Ulf.
"White Shirt's adopted son?" Ulf had heard people talk about him more than once, but when everyone talked about him, their attitude was always different. Some people were full of contempt, some were full of fear, and some were full of fear. Some people don't care at all.
"That's right, Ulf, if I were you, you would choose to accept my proposal. As the old proverb of our Norse people goes, you will never know whether a warrior is a warrior until you see him." Guzrun said to Ulf persuaded.
Ulf pondered for a moment and felt that what Guzlen said was not unreasonable. Anyway, he couldn't lead an army everywhere, so he might as well place them in the base area and take the time to visit the white-shirted adopted son in person. Let's see if he is as bad as the rumors say.
(The following paragraph was created by group friend Stukov)
In the fiefdom of White-shirted Halfdan, the forest was gleaming with light under the night, the crows were croaking endlessly, and the smell of blood filled the surroundings.
"God Odin, God Odin", a group of naked Norse people holding torches gathered under a big tree, and hanging upside down in the tree was a frightened Ansan prisoner, his tongue was cut out, only Can make a whining sound. In front of him stood a tall figure wearing a black cloak. He held a sacrificial dagger in his right hand. His eyes flashed with bloodthirsty light. There was no doubt that he longed for the blood of the Ansa people.
The man in black stretched out his left hand to signal the people around him to quiet down.
"Father of the gods, I offer you the blood of sinners. Please favor me. Let me sweep away the enemy like a hurricane. Let me pierce the enemy like Gungnir. Let me drink blood and make me invincible." He deliberately made a low voice.
As soon as he finished speaking, he raised his dagger and quickly cut the artery on the prisoner's neck. Blood immediately flowed out from the open wound. When he saw the blood flowing out, the man's eyes were filled with fanaticism, and he immediately He took off his cloak and revealed his strong body - it was a blond man with two jumping cats tattooed on his back. Then he turned his back to everyone and made a horrifying move. He slowly knelt down directly under the prisoner, raised his head, opened his arms and let the blood fall freely on his body. Blood slowly dripped on his head, back, and even the two cats turned into blood, looking extremely weird. The people around held their breath, as if they didn't dare to disturb this sacred ceremony.
When the prisoner slowly lost his vitality and his blood was about to drain out, the man, who was covered in blood and even his head and face was soaked in blood, stood up and faced everyone.
"The Father of the Gods will favor me, and like Odin's storm we will destroy every Saxon bastard's domain." the blond man roared.
"Ho ho ho~~." The people around him were moved by his enthusiasm and shouted war cries one after another. They were destined to have no sleep tonight.
(The above paragraph was created by group friend Stukov)
"Lord Swain." Just when this sacred and bloody ceremony was coming to an end, a voice sounded in the shadow of the forest. Swain took the linen handed over by his subordinate, wiped the blood on his body, and moved towards the sound. Go in the direction of the sound.
"Is there any interesting news?" Swain asked curiously.
"It is Gutzrun, whose army defeated the army of the King of Mercia," the shadow said to Swain.
"That old fox really refuses to accept old age." Sven smiled contemptuously. He believed that sooner or later these old guys would retire from the stage and give up this vast stage to new and powerful people as gorgeous as him.
"Yes, the Mercians are completely unable to withstand his army, but another piece of news is concerning." Shadow continued to say to Sven.
"What's the news?" Sven was even more curious. He felt that there seemed to be more and more interesting news recently.
"It's the Kingdom of Cornwall, and their king is dead."
"Is it a big deal when a king dies? Or was he killed by someone sent by Guzrun or Ubi?" Swain laughed. There are too many kings in Britain now, and many famous kings have died.
"No, the problem is because after the death of the King of Cornwall, his wife took over the kingdom as regent and will now form an alliance with Wessex." Shadow continued to Swain.
"Wessex?" Swain frowned. He was a little concerned about this southern kingdom. When his adoptive father couldn't wait to sign a peace agreement with Alfred, he tried his best to stop it, because he had grown up from that weak and weak person. In the eyes of the young king, firmness and faith can be seen, which are things that only true believers like him have.
"What are you going to do?" Shadow leaned against the big tree, folding his arms and asking with interest.
"Do what a North man should do." Swain's eyes showed a sharp look, and he would not let Alfred succeed.
"As you wish, the future King of the Vikings." The corners of Shadow's mouth seemed to rise. He opened his arms and bowed towards Swain.
Sven was draped in linen, revealing his strong body. He strode to the edge of the forest and proudly looked at the continuous Viking tents outside the forest and the bonfire like a starry morning.
"Wow~~huh~~."
"Wow~~huh~~."
"Wow~~huh~~~."
In the noisy Viking camp, war cries rang through the night sky from time to time. A powerful Viking army appeared in front of Sven, and he proudly stared at this unstoppable army.
"Oh~~." Isaac woke up from his sleep. He looked into the dim room and pinched the bridge of his nose with his hand. The nightmare seemed to still be surrounding him in his mind. The nightmare was so clear. It can be seen that his heart almost jumped out of his throat.
"God, may you forgive our sins and save our souls." Isaac stood up from the bed, walked to the wooden table, lit the candle with a flint, and then prayed to the wooden cross on the table.
Isaac raised his head and looked out the window. In his dream just now, he saw an endless Viking army heading towards Wessex. All the towns, villages and castles were destroyed by war, and people's corpses Stacked up like mountain peaks, groups of red-eyed crows hovered in the sky.
"Duoduoduo~~." Suddenly, there was a rapid knock on the door. Isaac quickly got up with difficulty. He opened the door and saw an attendant.
"Your Majesty calls you." The attendant said to Isaac with a straight face.
"I'll get dressed and come right away." Isaac said to the attendant quickly.
"It's too late. Your Majesty wants to see you immediately." But the attendant couldn't help but urged Isaac.
In the empty palace hall, Alfred sat at the desk, facing the parchment documents sent from various counties. He put his elbows on the armrests and fell into deep contemplation and distress. .
"Your Majesty." At the urging of the attendants, Isaac didn't even have time to change his shoes, so he could only come to see Alfred in soft slippers. Fortunately, it was late at night, and no courtiers would see him and scold him. His rudeness.
"Issa, can we win?" Alfred's eyes were filled with worry, and he seemed to be saying to Isaac just to be sure.
"Of course Your Majesty, as long as we have firm belief and detailed plans, we will be able to succeed." Isaac breathed a sigh of relief and said to Alfred.
"The white shirts set off for Ireland. The Irish lords learned the news and gathered their armies to prepare for the battle. Although the white shirts' army was divided into two parts, they still had the upper hand. The king of Mercia tried to stop Gutz Lun's army invaded and returned with a great defeat. The army fled in all directions and the cavalry abandoned their armor. "Alfred looked at a piece of parchment unfolded in front of him. It was the message that the spies were desperately trying to convey to him. , and it was this news that kept Alfred unable to sleep. Originally, he had hoped that Siowulf could hold on for a while, so as to give him enough time to prepare.
"Your Majesty, don't worry. The weakness of the Vikings is obvious. They can't take advantage of the victory. The fiefdom left by White Shirt will inevitably become the source of internal strife for the Vikings." Isaac had a different view, and he comforted Alfred. , as he analyzed, the disunity of the Vikings will become a fatal flaw.
"Isaac, I have always had a dream." Alfred's brown eyes revealed a maturity and foresight that was beyond his age. His brother was killed by the Vikings, and the kingdom was attacked by the Vikings. The constant ravages made him bear a huge burden.
"Oh?" Issek was slightly startled, and he looked at the lonely king.
"I dreamed that the whole of Britain would become one country. Whether Mercia, Wessex, or Wales would all be unified into a country called England, the Vikings would be completely driven away." Alf Red rubbed his temples and said to Isaac.
"Your Majesty." Isaac felt as if he had met Alfred for the first time. He did not expect that this young monarch had such great ambitions in his heart. His words made Isaac feel dissatisfied with the reward in his heart. Sweep away.
"We need more powerful power, from God, or from the noble lords. In any case, I hope to see the wish come true in my lifetime." Alfred said to Isaac.
"I, Isaac, will do my best to serve His Majesty's grand cause." Isaac bowed deeply to Alfred, expressing his loyalty.
"Well, I have decided that you will represent me to contact the lords and kings of the countries, tell them about the greed and cunning of the Vikings, gather all the strength, and when the time is right, go to war against the Vikings and save England from disaster. "Alfred picked up a blank piece of parchment from the table and kept writing on it with a quill. Finally, he dropped a large drop of hot wax on it and covered it with his own royal emblem, and handed the letter to Isaac.
"I will fulfill my mission." Isaac took the letter and said to Alfred solemnly.
