Sensing the hint of murder in Halfdan's words, Ulf was reluctantly forced to agree to join the raid.
With Britain and West Francia no longer suitable for plunder, Halfdan turned his attention to Pomerania, on the southern coast of the Baltic Sea.
The region was dotted with scattered Slavic tribes and crop yields were low, but Halfdan did not care. Plunder was secondary to satisfying his bloodlust.
"I have made an agreement with the lord of Schleswig (southern Denmark). We will meet him on his territory, gather five hundred warriors, and set out immediately,"
Ulf replied without expression. "Understood."
His fears were later justified. After several days of plundering in Pomerania (which later became the northern coast of Poland), the troop
managed to get only a small chest of amber and some torn animal skins.
During the raid, Ulf also discovered that Halfdan was deliberately stalking him, assigning him dangerous tasks, such as serving as bait and attacking city gates at night.
Thanks to his vigilance and the luck accumulated over the years of campaigning, Ulf managed to survive.
Back in Schleswig, the local lord Horst was entertaining brave warriors returning from a hard battle. During the feast, some of the berserkers complained about the meager loot. A drunken Halfdan waved his hand: "This is only a short rest. We will set out in two days."
His words stirred up the berserkers, and their cries filled Ulf's ears. Although his heart was cold,
he feigned equal excitement by joining in the cries.
After drinking for more than half an hour, Ulf feigned drunkenness and knelt down to leave the lord's house. He stumbled along the way, causing Halfdan and the others to laugh:
"Look at this Earl 'Eel'! He is truly pathetic."
Eel is Ulf's nickname. In 844 CE, he found himself in financial difficulties and was forced to pay a large tribute of dried eels to Ragnar. He received the derogatory nickname 'Eel', and Leonard appropriated it for the rest of his life, and this nickname remained with Ulf for the rest of his days.
A few years later, at the Battle of Lutterworth, the Frankish knight Maurice chopped off Leonard's nose, which left him badly disfigured. Ulf took the opportunity to take revenge, giving his old enemy the nickname "Beau."
Leaving the lord's longhouse, Ulf crept into the next house, where the seven surviving shield-bearers were eating and drinking.
"My lord, what do you want?"
"Pack up your things, gather the settlers from Kongser, and go to the harbor to board a ship."
At that moment, Ulf's eyes brightened. If he delayed any longer, Halfdan would sooner or later set him up. He had to take this last chance to escape back to Britain.
Suddenly one of the shield-bearers hesitated and asked, "But what about the loot?" He
was still greedy for such rags, a fool who valued money more than life!
Holding back his rage, Wulf gently advised, "Go back to Kent. I will compensate you for the supplies threefold, each of you will have his share."
Then, throwing on his cloak, Wulf arrived at the docks under cover of darkness.
"This longship is in good condition. Quickly, bring the nearest barrels of beer and this dried fish."
Having loaded the supplies, Wulf ordered the sails of the other ships to be cut and the oars thrown into the water, so that Halfdan and Horst could not pursue him.
After that, he counted the men: the seven surviving shieldbearers were still there, as well as thirteen young men and women from Kongser.
Two missing?
Looking at the brightly lit and noisy lord's house, Wulf grew angry. "Never mind. Enough waiting. First, let's escape from these madmen."
Two years ago, he heard Vig's story about the "Feast of Hongmen", and one line sank deep into his soul: great things should not bother with trifles
Hearing the lord's command, the shield-bearers turned their ships away from the harbour.
Listening to the murmur of the water, Ulf felt depressed, feeling the same fate as the "Bon Lu" in the story: both were old, but forced to play with these reckless youths, whose days were full of restlessness.
"Return to Londinium and tell everyone about Halfdan's misdeeds. He is completely mad."
Ulf was sure that Ragnar would deal with the situation impartially and, at the very least, send a messenger to reprimand Halfdan.
If the king insisted on protecting his son and ignored his attempt to kill a powerful vassal, the resentment of the nobles would only increase, culminating in a final explosion.
In contrast to Ulf's dangerous experience, Vig had recently been leading a quiet life, reviewing official documents and accompanying Heligif, who was about to give birth.
One day, Mitcham approached the lord about the recent large number of immigrants and whether he should continue to live in Tyneshire.
"Yes, there are vast lands on the south bank of the Tyne, ready for cultivation. Send officials to distribute the arable land. Windmills pump water much more efficiently than manual labor. At this rate, we can take in at least six or seven thousand immigrants a year."
Having laid out a map, Vig surveyed the surrounding areas, wondering where to place the next waves of settlers. Shortly after, a servant arrived with a report.
"Sir, a cog flying a gull flag has arrived at the dock, followed by five longships." "
Gull, Bjorn?"
Vig went out to greet him and saw him ordering his men to stock up on ropes and spare sails, as if preparing for a long voyage.
"Where are you going?"
Bjorn asked. "To the islands west of Iceland. I was caught in a storm there a few years ago and spent some time there. Now I have this ship, the Explorer. It is much more resistant to wind and waves than the Viking longship, making it suitable for long-distance exploration."
Greenland?
Vig remembered Greenland: a harsh climate, few trees, no crops. The natives lived by seal hunting and fishing.
It was the early Middle Ages, Europe was sparsely populated, and vast lands were waiting in the wings. Most Viking settlers headed to Britain and Normandy, unwilling to endure the storms and meager food of Iceland, not to mention the poor, forested, frosty climate of Greenland.
"Only a small part of Iceland has been explored. Are you sure you want to explore an even more inhospitable island?"
Of course, this is my mission, granted to me by the gods.
Seeing Björn's enthusiasm, Vig was speechless and could only let him go.
Even if Björn had been lucky enough to discover America, large-scale exploration would have been impossible. North America had no major mountain ranges running east to west, allowing winter cold waves to move south unimpeded. Summers were prone to extreme weather events such as hurricanes and tornadoes, and
the slightest carelessness could wipe out entire settlements.
"Historically, landless peasants in Europe, deprived of the means of subsistence, were forced to make long and arduous journeys to the New World. Now that Europe has vast expanses of uncultivated land, who would be bored enough to try to cultivate it elsewhere? Well, let them."