Memories

The Viking lands, as the name implied, were where the Vikings lived.

In truth, "Viking lands" was not the local name. This land was called the Scandinavian Peninsula, meaning "the land where Scandinavians lived." The word "Viking" carried a far stronger derogatory meaning; in English, it meant pirate.

Because it lay in the northwestern corner of Europe, it also had a more common later name: Northern Europe. The descendants of the Vikings were collectively known as "Northern Europeans."

The word "Scandinavia" came from the Teutonic word "skadino," meaning "dark." Combined with the territorial suffix "-via," the full name meant "the dark place."

The peninsula had earned that name because, at such a high latitude, its winter nights were exceptionally long.

Beneath the dim sky, lightning gathered within the clouds and unleashed tremendous power. Warship after warship formed a vast fleet sailing ahead, while countless Viking warriors stared into the distance across the raging, storm-lashed sea.

They had reached King Lot's territory.

Snowflakes had already begun drifting down, and more than half the tribal leaders of the Viking lands had gathered here.

Inside a wooden castle steeped in Viking character, more than half the powerful figures of the Viking Kingdom had assembled in a dimly lit chamber.

Firewood crackled in the hearth. Men and women, young and old, sat around it in utter silence, holding their breath and scarcely daring to breathe loudly. Before the grimly painted warriors clutching Viking battle axes, everyone watched several elderly women in white robes, their hair concealed beneath their hoods, enter the room. They were Odin's priestesses.

The most eye-catching figure was King Lot, resting upon an iron throne. The elderly man's half-lidded eyes made him resemble a tiger poised to pounce and devour its prey.

Surrounded by the crowd, the aged priestesses approached the bonfire in this solemn, imposing setting. They continuously chanted obscure, incomprehensible words. They sounded like English, Latin, perhaps even French, yet everyone present knew that although the language resembled those known to mankind, it was not any human language they knew.

This was the language used to communicate with the gods, the Rune script that possessed powerful magical force.

The flames burned slowly. Accompanied by the witches' chants, they seemed to come alive, swaying restlessly. At last, they actually tried to break free from the fire. Almost instantly, before anyone could cry out or even think, the flames lunged at the elderly king resting on his throne.

It was a conspiracy. An assassination attempt.

Everyone thought the same thing. Amid involuntary cries of alarm and concern, the king, who had seemed to be dozing with his eyes half closed, drew his sword and slashed at the attacking flames. The living fire was split in two, and everyone present seemed to hear its mournful shriek.

"Guards, drag these women outside and behead them. Bring in the next batch."

The soldiers waiting in the hall immediately rushed forward, seized the three old women, and dragged them away. Then, before everyone's eyes, they directly chopped off the witches' heads. The heads rolled into the bonfire, filling the air with a scorched stench.

Several young priestesses then stepped forward, trembling so badly that their legs seemed to have gone numb. Terrified by what they had seen, they even screamed. One young girl could not help bursting into tears.

King Lot frowned and was about to summon his executioners when he saw a handsome young man in formal white tunic attire, an unknown animal-fur shawl draped across his shoulders, grab the arm of the screaming girl. "Conduct the rite in peace. Do not panic. If you delay the ritual and offend the gods, that will be a grave crime."

Only then did the girl realize why the king had summoned her. She gave the handsome youth a grateful look, nodded to him, then walked forward to join her companions. This time, the ritual evidently proceeded without any further mishaps.

"Prince Gawain, you always have to meddle!"

"Your Majesty, excessive killing damages your benevolence. Today is an important day for you. Show some mercy, and everyone will be even more grateful."

The youth before King Lot showed a helpless expression, then smiled. "Perhaps. But from today onward, it seems I can no longer look upon you as a child."

"I will always be your child, Your Majesty."

"And I will always be your father. Tell them to begin formally. Governing our tribe of fifteen thousand alone has already exhausted me, yet they still insist on making me continue."

King Lot gave his order below, then took the highest seat before all the tribal chiefs. The nobles were clearly no strangers to the youth seated near the king.

This was clearly the king's way of showing off.

Lot was the chieftain of a large Viking tribe numbering fifteen thousand, and also the king of the Kingdom of Denmark in the Viking lands.

The political and military power of the Viking Kingdom was primarily built upon tribal alliances. The king was generally elected by the alliance members, and his authority and standing usually depended upon his military ability.

In other words, every tribe could be regarded as an independent kingdom, and every tribal chief could be regarded as a king. The king they elected was the king among kings.

"King Lot! King Lot!"

"God of War of the North! God of War of the North!"

"Ring-Giver!"

"Son of Odin!"

The nobles of King Lot's tribe called out his name one after another. Their fervor was so great that even the leaders of the other tribes had no choice but to join in the cheering.

King Lot was a hero many tribal leaders had heard of since childhood. Back when Britain was still under Vortigern's rule, he had already been king of the Vikings. When Vortigern was destroyed by King Uther, he remained king. After King Uther died and Arthur ascended the throne, he was still king.

Even now, when Arthur's reign was nearing its end, he was still openly and brazenly sitting on the throne.

This monster... was he really human?

Countless nobles secretly speculated. In Viking political tradition, the leader of every tribe was king over the land ruled by that tribe.

The king was the tribe's foremost warrior and its highest military commander. Soldiers who charged into battle would be promoted to officers and regarded as nobles, while kings and nobles enjoyed many political privileges.

Therefore, to the Vikings, the Viking Kingdom was an empty concept. Their own tribal kingdoms were what truly mattered.

Though all the tribal alliances had jointly elected the strongest warrior to face outside military threats, uphold their shared religious beliefs, and conduct sacrifices, calling him the Son of Odin and having him rule all tribes in Odin's name, the great autonomy of the local nobles meant that even the king could achieve very little.

Even after becoming king, one could be replaced at a tribal assembly. Even if the tribal assembly failed to remove him, once he had ruled for slightly too long, he would die in an assassination. That had always been the case, and it should have remained so.

Until King Lot appeared.

His reign had lasted far too long—long enough for infants of his generation to become boys, boys to become young men, young men to grow old, and old men to enter their graves.

Yet King Lot still sat securely upon his iron throne.

King Lot had outlived many Viking nobles who believed they could replace him through youth alone. He had also defeated warriors who sought to seize the throne, and he mercilessly imposed annihilating punishment upon the tribes of any champions who challenged his royal authority.

As a result, the Viking Kingdom, once merely an empty concept, had become something tangible through King Lot's authority. At the very least, tribes had little way to openly defy the orders he issued.

The nobles had once sailed great ships everywhere to raid, and merchant vessels from the Kingdom of Camelot had been among their targets. It was only after Camelot's court delivered a formal letter to King Lot—declaring past raids forgiven, but anyone caught doing so from then on would be executed on the spot—that the nobles' behavior was restrained.

Naturally, this enraged countless nobles. Their brothers in Iceland, Sweden, and Norway could raid Camelot's merchant ships, so why could they Danes not do the same?

The glorious legends of Arthur, which had swept across Europe, were already distant tales to the younger generation of Danish nobles, like fairy tales.

However, after King Lot executed several nobles who had defied his orders, everyone understood that he was not joking. As long as he lived, no one could resist this tyrant.

Among Vikings, who revered dying on the battlefield, many could not help wondering whether King Lot would ultimately be unable to enter Valhalla, because he would die of old age in his bed.

Every two years, the tribes of Denmark gathered at King Lot's palace for a tribal alliance assembly. By custom, they first held a sacrifice to report the convening of the meeting to the gods in heaven, then elected their foremost warrior—the king. Yet ever since Lot had been elected, he had been chosen king every single time for so many years that the process had become purely ceremonial.

Vikings were required to accept the tribal alliance's resolutions without condition. Anyone who defied them would be expelled from their tribe and forbidden from being taken in by anyone else. For people of this era, that undoubtedly meant becoming a wild man, an outlaw.

"Today, I have an important matter to announce. I intend to appoint my son Gawain as an earl, and at the same time make him my viceroy!"

King Lot rose and announced this to everyone. All the nobles present turned their eyes toward the youth seated closest to the king.

A viceroy was not a king second only to the monarch, but the king's deputy, the highest ruler when the king was absent from Denmark.

In England's history, viceroys had been appointed as governors over places such as India and Ireland.

At this moment, Iceland was a province under Denmark's rule. If Prince Gawain were granted the title of viceroy, he would undoubtedly serve as Denmark's governor there.

After all, viceroy contained the word "king." It could not be appointed by the king alone. There was no precedent for this in Denmark's past; if they insisted on finding one, it could only be the era of co-emperors in Rome, the core of European civilization.

There could naturally be only one king, but the king could appoint his heir as his "co-ruling king."

Of course, this exceeded King Lot's authority and still required approval from the tribal alliance assembly.

The nobles fell silent. If King Lot wanted to be elected king, then no matter how unwilling they were, they could only agree and accept it. But making Gawain viceroy meant that the Viking Kingdom would become a hereditary, tangible kingdom in the future. That was something none of the nobles wished to see.

Their gazes swept toward the seats of King Lot's royal family. The mass of brightly dressed figures numbered at least thirty or fifty. They were not the queen's attendants, but the king's queens, and beneath them stood nearly a hundred children.

King Lot was undoubtedly a powerful monarch. In Viking history, there had never been such a powerful warrior. His life was unquestionably legendary.

As a prince, his uncle had usurped his throne. His mother, the queen, had also been taken by that uncle. He wandered abroad, fleeing to England, then within the territory ruled by Vortigern, where he became Vortigern's friend—and, of course, King Uther's friend as well.

With the support of England's military forces, he crossed the sea back to Denmark, reclaimed the throne that belonged to him, and cruelly killed his uncle as well as his mother, who had betrayed his father.

He was invincible in war, was elected king of the Vikings in politics, and built the political entity that existed today.

Perhaps there had never been such an Odin-like ruler in the past, nor would there ever be one again in the future.

A legendary life, more than a hundred queens, and countless sons—this was King Lot of today, a monarch feared, loved, hated, and worshipped by countless people.

"Since none of you object, we will follow the old rules. My son Gawain has also reached marriageable age. Each of your tribes should choose a princess and marry her to him!"

As King Lot spoke, every noble present was seized by terror.

King Lot killed every rival who dared challenge him by force, militarily oppressed the other Viking kingdoms and tribes, and diplomatically married queens from many tribes to establish ties of kinship with the families of most tribal chiefs. Giving one's daughter to King Lot in marriage was also a declaration of submission.

Compared to Christian monarchs who practiced monogamy, if a queen could not bear a son, the throne would have to pass to the king's brothers' families. If the previous king had only one son, they could only seek distant relatives, resulting in dynastic changes.

King Lot had over a hundred queens. Assuming every queen bore at least one son, he had at least a hundred sons. Every one of them was a renowned warrior, but the most outstanding among them was Prince Gawain, born of the first queen.

Simply standing there, he exuded boundless grace. Odin's blood flowed through his veins, along with the blood of another great dynasty of Britain.

Though still young, he was already a qualified warrior.

People praised him as Balder, the god of the sun and light,

Odin's other son, the god of light!

He was gifted in both talent and looks, his face always bright with springlike warmth.

Legend said that whenever he smiled, people felt incomparable joy.

Yet just as Balder, the god of light in myth, was hated, Gawain was likewise resented by the powerful tribes.

Camelot was one of the great powers of the age, and Gawain's mother came from its royal house. Thus, she was the first queen, and her position was unshakable. Yet Gawain, with half the blood of Camelot flowing through him, could not win everyone's support.

Ever since the first queen had come to Denmark, she had continued to identify herself as a Christian. She never participated in any events involving the pagan gods—the gods such as Odin whom they worshipped.

Influenced deeply by the queen, Prince Gawain might himself be a devout believer in Christ. One day, after King Lot died, he might immediately overturn everything in matters of faith.

Yes, this was not without precedent.

During Britain's Vortigern era, the old faith had still ruled. By King Uther's era, the new faith had already taken root in Britain. By then, although common folk still held their old beliefs, Christianity had gained the upper hand within the kingdom's official circles, and the old gods had withdrawn from history's stage.

This was enough to terrify anyone.

Of course, that was merely one possible future. No one could guarantee what would happen, and even faith was a matter for later. The true reason the tribal leaders hated Gawain was only one: their relatives had long since borne sons in King Lot's palace.

An uncle would always support his nephew. Blood ties were bonds that could not be severed.

"Your Majesty, I wish to please Odin with a sacrifice. For a sacrifice to the god of war, nothing is more fitting than war, and at present, nothing is more fitting than a battle between warriors! Those who die on the battlefield will gain glory through victory, while even the defeated may go to Valhalla. What Odin permits, no one may defy."

The tribal chiefs spoke in unison, then looked toward Prince Gawain. "Honored earl, our viceroy, do you have the courage to perform a rite to please Odin with our warriors?"