Chapter 97: The Vikings
The year is 6230 of the Sixth Age. 23 kilometers north of Helsing.
Fishing boats returned to the small coastal village one after another.
Seagulls circled overhead, crying out. Some Norman fishermen tossed small fish upwards, and the seagulls caught them in mid-air, then soared away.
Occasionally, some unlucky ones collided while vying for the fish, causing the fishermen below to burst into laughter.
This fishing village had no name; it was a so-called “wildling village.”
According to the prevailing feudal laws of the West in this era, the land belonged to its lord, and all residents on the land had to pay taxes to the lord.
However, this land, called Hålogaland, was vast, and the tax officials under the lord couldn’t monitor every piece of it.
Furthermore, the Normans were a hardy people. They fished at sea, and when times were tough, they would abandon their villages to become pirates. When tired of piracy, they would find a new place to build a house, establish a village, and start fishing again. Therefore, there were many fishing villages along this coast, existing in a state of subtle disconnect from the lord.
The tax officials didn’t know about these villages, and the villagers didn’t know about the lord. Thus, these villages became wildling villages, unregistered with the authorities.
The fishermen pulled their boats ashore, and the village children cheered, running towards the fishing boats to find the biggest and fattest cod.
A small figure stood by the houses, watching the children running barefoot on the beach with envious eyes.
But she remained motionless, knowing the fishermen would feel awkward seeing her.
Or rather, they harbored a subtle apprehension towards her.
This year, Sidlipha was 9 years old.
…
She felt like she had forgotten something important.
After spending the afternoon by the beach, letting the sea breeze blow through her hair, Sidlipha finally admitted she couldn’t remember.
Perhaps it was just a fleeting illusion from oversleeping this morning.
She stood up, intending to go home.
Walking to the smallest house in the village, she heard a woman’s cries and a man’s heavy panting coming from inside.
Her mother didn’t like to be disturbed when she was working.
So Sidlipha went to the woods outside and started digging for earthworms.
A moment later, an angry shout came from the house:
“I don’t want your stinking axe as payment! Stork, if you don’t bring enough money next time, don’t even think about stepping through my door!”
“Haha, my dear Sally, next time I’ll definitely pay double.”
A Norman man, pulling up his pants, yawned and walked out. Seeing Sidlipha digging for earthworms, he couldn’t help but ruffle her blonde hair and say:
“Sidlipha, go home. Your mother is waiting for you.”
“…Maybe you’re my daughter,” he muttered as he fastened his belt and left.
Sidlipha covered her nose and went back inside. A pale arm reached out languidly from the worn-out bed.
“Go, pick up the axe by the door, find Old Man Wilder, the village elder, and exchange it for some bread and pickled fish.”
Sidlipha picked up the axe and left the house in silence.
Sally, Sidlipha’s mother, had a unique profession in the village.
Her clients were mostly passing pirates, and occasionally, village fishermen would visit.
The latter was less common, as fishermen were relatively poor and reluctant to spend money on pleasure.
But over time, almost every fisherman in the village had been with Sally.
Then, Sally became pregnant.
No one knew why she suddenly chose to have a child, and they didn’t even know who the father was. For a time, all sorts of things were piled up in front of Sally’s house, food and herbs for prenatal care.
The women in the village were furious, keeping a close eye on their husbands, afraid they would sneak out in the middle of the night to give Sally things.
Then little Sidlipha was born.
The women in the village hated her, calling her a “bastard,” maliciously speculating that her father was an old, ugly, and festering pirate.
The fishermen in the village felt awkward seeing her, because she might have their blood flowing through her veins. So they could only take care of her and try not to talk to her, lest their sensitive wives find out.
Secretly, the fishermen called little Sidlipha “everyone’s daughter.”
The children, returning from the fishing boats with their bounty, gave the fresh cod to their mothers and received dried fish from the cellar in return.
Then they started playing pirates, pretending the dried fish in their hands were battle axes, swinging and chopping at each other.
The villagers had mixed feelings about pirates. On the one hand, they had all been pirates at some point. On the other hand, they didn’t want their children to become pirates.
However, the children didn’t care about this. They simply thought pirates were cool, able to sail around and do whatever they wanted, attacking anyone they didn’t like.
“Today, I’m a Viking! Die!” A blond boy shouted, throwing the dried fish in his hand at another child.
“Persson, you were already a Viking last week!” The other children complained. “It’s someone else’s turn!”
“Fine! Then let’s wrestle. Vikings are all strong. Whoever can wrestle me to the ground will be the Viking!”
The children immediately quieted down. The blond Persson was the biggest among them, and most of them couldn’t beat him.
A boy bravely stepped forward. A few minutes later, he was slammed to the ground by Persson and burst into tears.
Persson tried to look imposing, glancing at the remaining children triumphantly.
No one spoke.
“Alright, now I’m the Viking, the King of the North Sea!” Persson said, pointing his finger. “Vivica, Selma, now you are my slaves, come and serve me.”
The two girls pouted and reluctantly stepped forward, massaging Persson’s shoulders.
“Carlson, Jonberg, you are the pirates I defeated, and you surrendered to me out of fear of my Viking identity. Now you are my guards.”
The two boys were overjoyed and immediately grabbed their dried fish, pretending to be wielding swords.
“Everyone else is an ordinary villager. Now pretend to go fishing, and wait for me to plunder you!” Persson clapped his hands.
So the remaining children immediately scattered. No one wanted to be caught and beaten up by this little Viking pirate.
Persson laughed, watching the children scatter in fear. His gaze suddenly fell on Sidlipha across from him.
This little girl had beautiful, light golden hair that reached her waist, and her skin was so fair that it was almost transparent, like a delicate porcelain doll.
The children guessed that her father must be a noble, otherwise, how could he have such a beautiful daughter who looked like a princess? However, whenever this was mentioned, their mothers would say disdainfully:
“She’s a bastard, her father is a festering old pirate.”
Persson was a little nervous. He hadn’t spoken to Sidlipha before, so he said cautiously:
“Hey, Sidlipha, do you want to be my princess and future wife? I’m a powerful Viking.”
The two girls next to him were immediately shocked: “Persson, she’s a bastard! Mom said that if we play with her, our faces will rot!”
Persson was annoyed by the two girls’ words, but Sidlipha across from him just looked at them silently without speaking, which made him feel awkward and irritated.
Just as he was about to slap her, Persson’s gaze suddenly fell on the axe in her hand.
It was a real axe. Although the wooden handle was covered in mold, and the axe head was pitted, it was a real axe.
Not like the dried fish they used for playing pretend.
“Where did you get that axe?” Persson asked, feigning kindness.
Sidlipha finally spoke:
“My mother gave it to me, to exchange for bread and pickled fish from the village elder.”
“No need to go to the village elder. I have bread and pickled fish here.” Persson said immediately. “Give me the axe, and I’ll give you the food.”
Sidlipha said “Oh” and handed him the axe.
Persson took the axe and backhanded her, knocking her to the ground.
Little Sidlipha covered her cheek, not understanding what had happened, and saw Persson grab her beautiful long hair, his boot pressing down on her face, and say arrogantly:
“Listen, Sidlipha!”
“A true Viking never trades, and never resorts to words!”
“They only take what they want from the crucible of fire and blood!”
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