Chapter 71: Old Youngest Brother, Go Gin Cotton

Margaret selected a relatively clean patch of grass and sat down slowly, quietly awaiting the arrival of the captured lords.

"I need a translator," she instructed young Sigrun.

Shortly after, a translator was brought forward—the same female translator from earlier.

At the same time, a small squad of Huscarls returned, escorting six lords whose hands were bound with fabric, their steps hurried.

As they reached Margaret, the knights dismounted.

The captives looked around in panic, watching the knight attendants who were busy dispatching the wounded soldiers. Finally, their gazes fell upon Margaret.

Margaret raised her head, feeling a slight discomfort in her neck. "Make them kneel. I am not accustomed to looking up when I speak."

A cunning glint flashed in the female translator's eyes as she conveyed Margaret's command: "Our queen commands you to kneel. She is not used to conversing with anyone whose head is higher than her line of sight."

Hearing this, the captives immediately submitted, dropping to their knees and crawling on the ground, hips raised, chins pressed against the earth, and eyes cast upward like a pack of whimpering dogs, carefully and submissively gazing up at Margaret.

This scene caught her by surprise; she had expected these lords to show a bit more backbone.

Margaret continued her questioning, a hint of curiosity in her voice: "Why did you send me gold and silver?"

The translator briefly relayed the question, but the response that followed left Margaret baffled. The translator's voice carried a hint of menace: "Do you want to die?"

The captives instantly showed extreme panic, eagerly defending themselves: "No, no! Mighty king of the north, we are willing to pay a ransom, we only beg you to spare our lives!"

Margaret turned to look at the translator in confusion, wondering to herself: Is communication in the Curonian language really this efficient? Why is the translated content so brief?

With a respectful tone, the female translator conveyed the distorted message: "My king, they said they want to use gold to insult you. They are extremely defiant and claim that if you do not release them now, they will go back and summon an army to annihilate us!"

Upon hearing this, the anger of the Huscarls was palpable. Their whips lashed down fiercely upon the captives, causing them to roll on the ground and wail in agonizing pain as they begged for mercy.

A trace of barely perceptible satisfaction flashed in the female translator's eyes.

"Stop the whipping!" Margaret immediately spoke up to halt it, an action that filled the captives with even greater terror. Her mind was filled with doubt.

She asked with a touch of interest: "Are all Curonians this arrogant?"

The translator replied: "The queen says: All Curonian lords deserve to die!"

The captives pleaded: "Respected king, what must we do to make you spare us?"

The translator twisted their words once more, telling Margaret, "Your Majesty, they said you are all a bunch of damned robbers, contemptible bastards, and you all deserve to die!"

The whips of the Huscarls fell heavily once again, and one of them even drew a dagger, stabbing it into their thighs and ruthlessly slicing them open.

The captives shrieked in agony, begging, "Spare us, spare us! We are willing to give everything! Ah—ah—"

Having lost all interest in continuing the interrogation, Margaret ordered, "Offer them as a sacrifice to Odin—use the Blood Eagle ritual!"

"Her Majesty the Queen says: You may go die!" The translator looked at them with lingering hatred.

Margaret keenly caught the hatred in the female translator's eyes. She stood up, drew her longsword, pointed it at the translator, and said meaningfully, "Wait. She is not honest. Find another translator!"

The female translator's face instantly turned pale with terror, further confirming Margaret's suspicion. She stared fearfully at the blade before her.

Soon, a male translator was brought to the scene. He quickly knelt and crawled toward Margaret.

"Help me translate. Ask them what they were saying just now," Margaret said, casting a suspicious glance between the captives and the female translator.

The male translator immediately asked, "Her Majesty the Queen asks, what were you saying just now?"

The captives hurriedly replied, "We are willing to give everything, we only beg you to spare us!"

The male translator accurately translated their response.

Margaret continued to press, "What else did this woman say to you just now?"

By this time, even the captured lords realized the female translator was meddling and glared at her with fury.

The male translator faithfully conveyed the captives' words: "She said that you said they all deserve to die!"

Margaret stared at the female translator with a hint of interest: "You dare to distort my words? You have quite some nerve. What is your name? Do you have a grudge against them?"

The female translator fell to her knees, her voice laced with hatred: "Your Majesty, my name is Lisa! I beg you to kill them!"

Margaret understood instantly: "Why? So you were intentionally misleading the translation just now?"

The female translator lowered her head, admitting to her actions, yet proceeded to justify why she hated these captured lords so intensely.

Margaret asked again, "Then what were they saying just now?"

Lisa the female translator did not answer.

Margaret scratched her chin. "It seems my translator is not honest. Ask again from the beginning: why did they send me gold earlier?"

"They—" the female translator started to speak.

"Shut up!" Margaret glared at the female translator, then turned to the male translator. "You tell me!"

Her words were accurately translated by the male translator.

The reply received was: "They only hoped you would leave in peace, which is why they presented you with that gold. They said they did not know it would anger you, and they implore you to spare them."

"They also said that your strength fills them with terror, and they are willing to support you to become the king of this region. As long as you can provide protection to save them from the raids of the northern pirates, they are willing to pay you an annual tribute!"

Margaret let out a scornful chuckle. "Bring ten thousand soldiers, and peace is letting me leave? And they're willing to support me?"

The male translator frowned, trying his best to accurately translate Margaret's words.

Margaret turned to the Huscarl knight and ordered, "Give this woman a dagger. She can deal with these... hm..."

Lisa the female translator was overjoyed. She quickly crawled toward Margaret, excitedly kissing the toes of her boots: "Your Majesty, thank you!"

However, Margaret's next words plunged her straight into an abyss of ice: "And then kill her!"

Lisa lifted her head in terror, but after a moment of hesitation, she kissed Margaret's boots once more, her voice filled with grim resolve: "Thank you, Your Majesty the King, thank you for giving me the chance for revenge!"

With that, she took the dagger handed to her by a Huscarl and walked toward the terrified, struggling captives who were attempting to flee.

The dagger in her hand was fueled by pure hatred, plunging without hesitation into their chests.

After continuously killing all six lords, Lisa knelt before Margaret once again to express her gratitude.

At this moment, the Huscarl knight also raised his longsword, staring intently at Lisa's neck, seemingly ready to deliver a decapitating blow at any second.

"Wait!" Margaret raised her hand, stopping the Huscarl knight's action. Her expression appeared somewhat conflicted before she announced, "I now pardon your crime of deception. Your life belongs to me!"

Turbulent thoughts surged through Margaret's mind. She thought of historical lessons—those ruthless individuals who would stop at nothing to carry out an assassination.

She thought of Yao Li, the assassin of King Helü of Wu during the Spring and Autumn period, who sacrificed his own wife and children and even severed his own arm just to gain the target's trust so he could assassinate Qing Ji.

The story of Yao Li made her deeply vigilant, making her realize that Lisa, the female translator before her, might possess that exact same ruthlessness and resolve.

She could not guarantee that Lisa would not become another Yao Li, and therefore she dared not take the risk of keeping her by her side—even if she figured she had helped the woman achieve her revenge and gained a potentially useful suicide operative for the future.

Human hearts change. This was not a civilized Huaxia supported by deep-rooted philosophies, but a barbaric early medieval world crawling with scumbags. She could not allow any potential threat to remain by her side.

As her territory grew larger, countless people harboring hatred toward her would come to assassinate her, an endless stream of threats, and sooner or later, she might just "flip her vehicle."

"Can you tell me now why you hated these people so much? And what was this revenge you spoke of?" Margaret ultimately could not suppress her curiosity.