Entering the cabinet and taking the position of Pri Minister to oversee all governnt affairs—this was the lifelong dream countless Chinese scholars fought for. Yet, with this monuntal blessing laid right before Viggo's eyes, he simply could not muster any enthusiasm.
After dinner, Viggo returned to his bedroom without a word. Lying among the soft velvet bedding, his mind raced, but he still could not find a suitable excuse to refuse the appointnt.
As Ragnar grew older, his temper had beco eccentric and unpredictable. If he were to anger the King, there was no telling what massive troubles might follow.
Heregyth was equally reluctant to see her husband leave. She wept for a long ti, so much so that Viggo had to turn around and comfort her.
"Do not make that face. Perhaps I will be back before long," he murmured.
No matter how things developed, Viggo had no choice but to bite the bullet and make the trip to Londinium. Draping a coat over his shoulders, he walked over to the nearby desk to draft his future work arrangents, instructing his wife as he wrote:
"The clover introduced from Ireland has proven to be an excellent forage crop after a few years of small-scale testing. It is perfect for planting on fallow land and pastures. Rember to urge the six counties to promote it on a large scale.
"There are also the turnips, along with the agricultural machinery like seed drills and threshers designed by the students—make sure they are all rolled out. His Majesty has aged considerably as of late. The peace in Britain will not last much longer, so we must make preparations in advance."
After filling five entire pages, Viggo massaged his aching wrist and looked up, only to find that his wife had long since fallen fast asleep.
Walking to the window, he pushed open the stained glass panes and overlooked the night scenery of the entire Town. Instantly, the howling winter wind rushed into the room. Viggo pulled his coat tighter around himself, watching his white breath dissipate beneath the moonlight.
It was the dead of night, and the whole Town huddled beneath the vast expanse of wind and snow. The vast majority of the houses were plunged into darkness, with only thin wisps of smoke rising from their chimneys. Only the towering temple in the center of the Town and the Sheriff's manor remained brightly lit. The north wind swept across the temple roof, stirring up fine snow that shimred like silver dust.
From the streets below, the occasional shouts of the night patrol drifted up. Except for specific holidays, Teyne Town enforced a strict curfew policy to prevent thieves from causing trouble.
Turning his gaze to the south, the River Tyne continued its tireless flow. Over seventy ships were docked at the pier, where they would remain anchored until the arrival of spring.
Today, the permanent population of Teyne Town had surpassed five thousand, making it a major settlent second only to Londinium and Winchester. Perhaps it was precisely because of this achievent that Pascal had recomnded Viggo to succeed him as Pri Minister on his deathbed.
"From now on, the weight of the entire British Isles rests upon my shoulders," he whispered.
In February, having settled all his affairs, Viggo led a retinue of forty attendants and headed south. One day at noon, the procession passed through Tamworth and discovered about two hundred villagers gathered in a clearing.
Not far away, a runic stone stood at the entrance to the village. This was a unique marker of Viking settlents, primarily used to commorate major events and pray for the protection of Norse gods like Odin, Thor, and Baldr.
Having traveled continuously since morning, both n and horses were exhausted. Viggo decided to rest here and observe this civilian assembly while they recuperated.
Traditional Viking society was divided into three distinct classes: Nobles, freen, and Slaves.
If a dispute arose among the freen, the common practice was to convene a "Thing." The Thing was akin to a local assembly; besides diating disputes among residents, it was also used to discuss public affairs.
In the Viking villages of the Northern Marches, this practice was equally popular. Due to limited administrative capacity, the Sheriffs and Town mayors had no ti to concern themselves with petty civilian matters. According to the "Code of Tainburg," an assistant judge would be dispatched from above to act as an overseer, a role that temple shamans could also sotis fulfill.
If a case involved a loss of life or major property damage, it was not suitable for a Thing and could only be adjudicated by the judicial system of the Duke of Tainburg. Facing the young Noble who had openly entered the venue, a resident tentatively asked, "And you are?"
"Viggo Tainburg, on my way to Londinium to assu the office of Pri Minister. My retinue requires a temporary rest."
With the North's Serpent visiting, the elders were entirely awestruck. They treated him as an honored guest and then proceeded with the statents from both parties.
The cause of the dispute was quite simple: a freeman had insulted a rival family at a banquet, calling them "as cowardly as Slaves." The aggrieved family demanded the paynt of a reputation compensation fee, or else they would initiate a duel.
"A duel?"
Viggo furrowed his brows without realizing it. This phenonon also existed in the Northern Marches, and despite repeated prohibitions, it persisted, forcing him to make a compromise. Duels were permitted, provided they obtained written permission from the Sheriff, stopped imdiately once one party conceded, and neither family engaged in retaliatory vengeance afterward.
Once both sides finished their statents, the fifteen elders sitting behind the long table summoned witnesses to carefully verify the situation at the ti.
According to tradition, insults required tiered compensation based on their severity. Because this case involved family honor, it fell into the most egregious category.
After a lengthy discussion, the elders announced the verdict: seven Silver Pennies, roughly equal to half of the annual savings of an ordinary farming household. If the accused refused to pay the compensation, the accuser had the right to initiate a duel.
With a gloomy expression, the accused farr sold the fat pig his family had raised and paid the compensation fee amid the sobbing of his wife and children.
With the reputation dispute settled, the elders moved on to handle other matters, including inheritance and farm boundary demarcations. After bustling about for over an hour, the crowd gradually dispersed, leaving only a single old man draped in a tattered sheepskin coat sitting in place, complaining aloud:
"The number of people attending the Thing is dwindling. So freen just choose to work at ho, ignoring this obligation. They ought to be severely punished!"
Viggo held a different perspective on the matter. In harsh living environnts, humanity tended to band together for warmth and survival. Now that the tis were peaceful, it was only natural and reasonable for freen to busy themselves with their own affairs.
Beside him, the old man kept muttering, complaining about his two sons. One had beco a farr, pouring all his energy into twenty acres of arable land, while the other had beco a carpenter, carrying his tools around and scurrying through the countryside all day.
"They do not act like Vikings at all! And it is not just the two of them; the others are the sa. According to the old traditions, a duel was unavoidable when family honor was involved. Now, they settle it with a re seven pennies. It is an absolute joke! What is the difference between them and those Angles?"
Viggo sighed. In his original tiline, two or three centuries later, the Vikings would convert to Roman Catholicism, absorb advanced production technologies, and shed their old tribal customs forever. As long as they had enough food and clothing, not many people were willing to set sail and plunder. The so-called Viking traditions were never an unbreakable standard.
'Better to be a dog in a peaceful world than a human in tis of chaos,' he mused inwardly. Now, with favorable weather and no lack of basic necessities, such good days were numbered. They could only look out for themselves.
Once the horses had regained their strength, Viggo bid farewell to the old man. Swinging himself onto Greywind's saddle, he took one last look at the youths kicking a ball on the grass and rode away, reciting a poem that no one else could understand.
"Would that I were a frivolous youth of Chang'an, born during the golden eras of Kaiyuan and Tianbao. To spend a lifeti racing horses and fighting cocks, blissfully ignorant of the rise and fall of the world."
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