Ch 56: Iceland

Regarding Vig’s evaluation, Bjorn did not agree. “You possess Tyne, Ivar possesses Derwent and Dyfflin, what do I have? Although I enjoy navigation, every voyage must end with a place to rest. I don’t want to return to York every time. Queen Sola has always disliked the three of us, and she likes to use words to taunt us at every opportunity. It’s really hateful!”

He bent down, grabbed a handful of mud, and inhaled deeply with a look of intoxication. “The longer I stay in the Royal Palace, the more uncomfortable I feel, as if I were a guest in someone else’s house. Ah, it’s time to find a new home of my own.”

Since Bjorn’s attitude was firm, Vig stopped trying to persuade him, stating that he needed to purchase volcanic ash. If Bjorn decided to live there permanently, he could exchange the volcanic ash for supplies.

“Are you sure?”

“I learned a concrete recipe in the Eastern Roman Empire, and it requires this kind of ash.”

After discussing for a while, the two returned to Tyne to have dinner. Vig casually mentioned the relationship between Bjorn and Princess Eve. Bjorn shook his head regretfully, claiming that their relationship had come to an end.

“To be honest, she is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, delicate and tender, with fair and smooth skin. It’s a pity that her ambition is too strong. One day, she asked me if I had any thoughts of inheriting the throne. I couldn’t answer for a moment. Above me is my older brother Ivar, and below me are my younger brothers Halfdan and Ubbe. Thinking carefully, the only thing I can rely on is my navigation technology. I lack the chips to compete for the throne.”

Holding a large goblet, Bjorn stared at the flickering candlelight across the dinner table, falling into a daze. He said softly, “Upon learning that I was going on an overseas expedition and planning to settle on a desolate island, Eve instantly became cold. Two days later, she left with her older brother, Young Eric.”

Mentioning this relationship, his mood suddenly dropped. He lowered his head and devoured his food before entering his guest room to rest.

Over the next three days, Bjorn went to the marketplace to sell goods, purchased the necessary supplies for the voyage, and chose a clear morning to set sail.

For this expedition, Bjorn specifically chose a newly launched ship, about twenty meters long. The hull was made of sturdy and durable oak. A light gray sail depicted a seagull soaring high—this was the noble crest he had chosen for himself. Considering that Jotunheim was unsuitable for farming, he carried six sheep on board.

On the dock, Vig saw off the legendary navigator. “Goodbye, brother, may all your affairs go smoothly.”

“Wait for my good news!”

Amid the cheers of the residents of Tyne Town, the ship sailed down the River Tyne to the River Tyne Mouth, then followed the coastline north, stopping at the Shetland Islands for two days.

Compared to several years ago, this barren archipelago was inhabited by thousands of Vikings, the vast majority of whom were refugees fleeing the war, and even two noble families.

Upon learning of Bjorn’s navigational objective, someone became interested. “Are you sure there is a large island west of the Faroe Islands?”

“This is the information Vig gave me. It doesn’t seem like a lie.”

“Really?” After much discussion, some Vikings were willing to participate in this expedition. The fleet expanded to five longships and 203 people.

Sailing northwest for two days, they arrived at the westernmost end of the Viking world—the Faroe Islands.

The Faroe Islands have rugged terrain and are constantly swept by strong winds, unsuitable for tree growth. A few scattered Viking settlements are distributed along the coastline. The soil is poor and unsuitable for farming. The locals rely on fishing and pastoralism for a living. Sometimes they also catch a type of bird with a black back, white belly, and brightly colored beak. They call it a puffin.

“Mmm, it does taste good. If I could eat it every day, what a treat that would be!”

After eating five roasted birds in one go, Bjorn sincerely praised the food. After purchasing sufficient cheese and dried fish, they sailed northwest the next morning.

The vast sea stretched endlessly, lead-gray clouds hung overhead, and salty winds lashed everyone’s faces. Gradually, the Faroe Islands in the rear became smaller and smaller, finally shrinking into an almost invisible black dot.

At this point, the fleet officially entered uncharted waters. Storms, icebergs, thunder, sea monsters… nobody knew what they would encounter ahead. Faced with unknown dangers, a sense of indescribable panic arose in their hearts, and they all held amulets and prayed to the gods.

The next day, the fleet encountered a rare north wind, and the sails were almost torn to shreds. The raging wind and waves struck, and one of the worst-condition longships broke apart on the spot, turning into a pile of debris floating on the sea. The thirty sailors on board perished at sea.

For three consecutive days and nights, the fleet tossed and turned in the waves. Everyone was soaked to the bone, and if they were not careful, they would be swept away by the waves. Until the fifth day’s morning, the sailors found that the color of the seawater had become slightly lighter. With many hopeful eyes watching, Bjorn nervously released a raven.

After a caw, the raven flew away in a certain direction without returning. The 150 survivors erupted in a thunderous cheer.

With renewed hope, they rowed in the direction the raven had flown. At sunrise on the sixth day, someone screamed, pointing to the horizon: a range of bluish-gray, steep cliffs pierced the sea mist, and a large flock of white seagulls circled above.

“Odin above, thank you for your blessing.”

After sailing around the steep cliffs for half a day, the four battered longships docked on a desolate beach. Not far away lay a large whale that had run aground and died. Someone used a dagger to cut off a small piece of whale meat, put it in their mouth, and chewed it for a moment.

“It died not long ago; the meat hasn’t rotted yet. We don’t need to look for other food.”

With this whale given by the gods, the people were able to save their energy for foraging and concentrate on exploring the surrounding terrain. The landscape was similar to that of the Faroe Islands, with strong westerly winds and poor soil, where only low-lying tundra plants stubbornly survived.

After exploring for more than ten days, they found a sheltered valley facing the sun, with a small birch forest and a winding stream nearby.

“Good, we’ll settle here. This island is named Iceland, and I, Bjorn ‘Ironbone’, son of Ragnar and Ragnheid, will be the ruler of Iceland from now on!”

At Bjorn’s command, 140 Vikings felled trees and built houses. He also planned to cultivate a slope nearby and sow rye seeds in September. Compared to wheat and barley, this crop has the strongest cold resistance.

“Whew, I hope they will sprout successfully.” Bjorn looked up at the sky and prayed.

Suddenly, the ground trembled faintly. In the bewildered eyes of the crowd, a plume of black smoke billowed from behind the mountains, like a giant serpent twisting its way toward the sky. Birds screamed and scattered in all directions.

What’s going on?

Bjorn ran all the way to the mountaintop. In the distance to the North, he saw a large expanse of red light, and thick black smoke continued to spread, bringing a faint smell of sulfur.