Gunnar said slowly, "Gentlemen, this is not a personal grudge, but a debt."
He quickly explained the situation: he had been crowned Duke of Normandy, ruler of the surrounding coastline, including the Channel Islands. Given the situation, the captives had two options.
One: leave the Channel Islands. If they returned with plunder, Gunnar would kill them mercilessly.
Two: settle on the mainland, where each would be given a plot of land suitable for farming.
The captives breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that Gunnar had no intention of killing or selling the slaves. One of them noticed the silver cross around his neck and asked cautiously, "
Must I convert to Catholicism to settle here?"
"No, Normandy is my domain. In this land, all Normans who submit to me will be protected."
Upon hearing this answer, more than 200 Jersey pirates surrendered and led their forces ashore.
With Jersey captured, the smaller island of Guernsey lay to the northwest. The morning mist had cleared and the sun was high.
Gunnar landed his troops on the beach, and the Vikings were ready for battle.
Looking up, he saw more than thirty women and young men armed with bows and arrows standing high on the cliffs. On the path leading to the cliffs, a hundred adult men lined up in a shield wall, ready for battle.
Surrounded by warriors, Gunnar approached to within fifty paces of the shield wall, introduced himself, and offered to negotiate with the Viking chieftain.
A man in his forties, wearing battered iron armor and with a few strands of gray hair tangled around his ears, stepped
away from the shield wall. "What do you want?" Gunnar repeated his Jersey story, but the Viking responded with a stern rebuke. "Ragnar has taken Britain, and now you claim the surrounding coast. You have taken all the benefits for yourself. How will the rest of us survive?"
For decades, the Vikings' main target had been the Heptarchy, and then the West Frankish Republic.
Giving up these two goals would mean that the pirates would have to move to southwest Iberia or raid the eastern and southern Baltic Sea, which would reduce their profits and greatly increase their risks.
As a former pirate, Gunnar understood their plight. However, circumstances had changed. Now that he was Duke of Normandy under the King of France, he naturally had to protect the interests of the West Frankish Republic.
He gave advice: "You can stop raiding. The lands of the West Frankish Republic are fertile and ideal for growing crops. After a life of hard work, it is time to enjoy a stable life."
"Farming?" the pirate leader sneered sarcastically.
"You, Ragnar, Ivar, Vig, Orm and the rest – you are all farmers. Why don't you stay in the village and till the land? You are now kings, dukes and earls. Not only have you renounced your ancestral traditions, but you have turned your swords against your former kin.
You do not deserve to be called Vikings."
After a long argument, the parties decided to settle their differences in single combat.
Under the gaze of the crowd, the two men came face to face, swords drawn. The salty sea breeze ruffled their hair. Soon the pirate chief roared, raised his iron sword and rushed forward.
Faced with the dark shadows descending from above, Gunnar took a step to the right, simultaneously parrying the enemy's blow with the back of his "Dawn Sword", twisting it.
The next moment, Gunnar grabbed the chieftain's blade crosswise. With one sweep of his hand, he touched the tip of the Dawn to the left side of the chieftain's neck. A trickle of blood flowed, forming a faint red line along the blade.
"You have lost."
Only then did Gunnar suddenly remember that he knew him. More than ten years ago, the two men had joined Ragnar on a raid into East Anglia. Back then, they had been beggars, without armor or swords, armed only with a round shield and a one-handed axe. They had nearly been killed by the local militia. In the end, when they had fled back to northern Europe, they had been severely reprimanded by the Noble Wolf, who had accused them of not paying enough for their spoils.
After all these years, they had unexpectedly met again at such an opportune moment.
Seeing the glimmer of blood in Gunnar's eyes, the chieftain chuckled self-deprecatingly: "My lord Duke, have you finally remembered? A small figure like me really has nothing to remember. Do not hesitate, Valhalla calls me."
"Are you sure?"
"In a few years I will be fifty, and in my present state I cannot return to my home town to farm. Let us do this and end it in the Viking tradition." "
Farewell, my brother." Seeing the chieftain's determination, Gunnar fought back and killed him.
When the duel was decided, almost half of the pirates surrendered. Gunnar spared the rest, allowing them to sail back to Northern Europe or Britain and spread the news of his appointment as Duke of Normandy.
"Remember, I am glad that the Vikings settle and trade, but I will mercilessly kill any pirate who tries to plunder."
Meanwhile, in the town of Tain,
After more than six months of hard work, Vig returned to his holdings, carrying supplies and horses. Led by Geligiv, he inspected his new home in the southwest of the town.
Tain Castle took two years to build and sits atop a low hill over twenty metres high to the southwest.
The outer perimeter of the castle is a moat about four metres deep, behind which rises a six metre high stone wall, meaning an attacker would have to climb almost ten metres.
The walls are 2.5 metres thick and are topped with battlements and loopholes. Round archery towers, each topped with a small trebuchet, are positioned at the corners.
The main entrance to the castle is the eastern gate, with double iron gates and a wooden drawbridge over the moat. The drawbridge is raised at night to discourage intruders.
After passing through the drawbridge and gates, accompanied by guards, Vig found that the dimensions of the castle had not changed, remaining a square with sides of 200 meters.
Inside, the most noticeable part is the main building, which is a rectangle measuring approximately 24 by 18 meters, with walls 2.5 meters thick and about fifteen meters high. It has four floors.
The first floor contains the main hall, used for banquets and meetings.
The second and third floors are used for receiving guests.
The fourth floor served as the living quarters of the lord, and also stored such valuables as gold, silver, and scrolls.
During the Mercian-Wessex War the previous year, Vig and Pascal had divided up the captured scrolls. Together with the scattered collections they had amassed over the years, the space now filled ten bookshelves.
In addition, cellars had been dug beneath the main building to store food, weapons, and essentials. In the unlikely event that the outer walls collapsed, the main building could hold out for some time.
Climbing onto the roof of the main building, Vig surveyed the premises, and the general layout matched the construction plans. There
was a courtyard, a deep well in the center, storerooms, kitchens, stables, barracks, and latrines.
The two basement levels of the barracks served as prisons for prisoners.
"How much did all this cost?" –
Heligief murmured lazily, snuggling close to her husband. "There was a slight overrun – only two hundred pounds of silver. Fortunately the stone was found on nearby Hadrian's Wall; otherwise the cost would have been at least four hundred pounds."