Chapter 74: Sudden Shift in the Situation

The Huscarls' knightly order galloped forward all the way. The oncoming wind put Margaret in a wonderful mood, save for the rather heavy dust.

Gradually, however, she noticed something was amiss; the pack-donkey beneath her was already beginning to lag behind the formation.

"Shall I change horses?"

She pondered the thought, only to dismiss it. Today was merely an exception, and since she had not yet grown up, she was unfit to charge into battle.

Moreover, cavalry charges were excessively perilous. If her mount proved too fine, she feared her youthful blood might suddenly boil, driving her to lead the charge herself.

Should she perish, and Alexander fail to suppress the lords or start acting foolishly, she might well have to start all over again.

Faced with the monster of her own creation at that point, she could hardly guarantee she would be able to seize the upper hand once more.

And if Alexander were to kick the bucket right alongside her, her reincarnation might simply be declared a failure.

A three-kilometer journey was neither far nor close. Riding hard the entire way, they finally arrived at the spot where the fleet was moored.

As the sea breeze blew, the sight of those unfamiliar raiders tampering with her ships caused her expression to plunge into dismay. Ygerne also spotted Margaret and came running swiftly toward her.

"Longbows, ready!"

"Loose!"

Bowstrings twangy and taut, arrows rained down from a distance of a hundred paces toward Ragnar and his men, who had already noticed them. Though the effect was minimal, it successfully thwarted their intention to weigh anchor.

Attempting to weigh anchor now meant paying with their lives.

Seeing that the force consisted entirely of cavalry, Ragnar and his companions dared not approach, remaining confined to the shallow waters capable of breaking a cavalry charge.

The pack-donkey between her legs panted heavily as Margaret assessed the current situation.

"Advance and hail them! I wish to see their leader!" What Margaret needed to do now was buy time; once her supporting warriors arrived, she could wipe these fellows out in one fell swoop.

A Huscarl officer with a booming voice cautiously drew near. "Which of you is the leader? Our Queen wishes to see you!"

Ragnar and his men gave no answer, fearing that the moment they stepped forward, Margaret and her troops would cut them down.

"Do you lack even the courage to face us? A pack of cowards!" Margaret provoked them.

Another Huscarl stepped forward to relay Margaret's words.

"I am the leader!" Ragnar's voice drifted across on the sea breeze, only to be swiftly swallowed by the rustling sound of waves washing against the shore.

"Who are you people? What are you doing to our fleet?"

"I am a Dane, Ragnar North-Dane! Hand these ships over to us, and we shall depart!"

"Ask him if he is Ragnar Lothbrok! Tell him I do not accept his terms, but I can offer him gold!" Margaret continued to buy time.

"I am Ragnar Lothbrok! We want one thousand pounds of gold! Give us gold, and we shall leave!"

Margaret gazed at Ragnar from afar. Indeed, judging by the fur trousers he wore, he closely matched the historical descriptions.

"How much did you say?"

"One thousand pounds of gold!" Ragnar shouted back.

"I cannot hear what you are saying!"

"One thousand pounds of gold!" shouted the Danish pirate raiders in unison.

"I agree, but you must accompany me to my domain. I have a business matter I wish to discuss with your lord, and there we shall provide you with a meal!"

"Ragnar, do not agree!" Floki hastily cried out in protest.

Ragnar cast Floki a reassuring look, his voice drifting into Margaret's ears: "You need only bring the gold over. Once delivered, we shall leave! We care nothing for your business!"

"Ragnar, new enemies are approaching! They are stalling us!"

At that moment, Margaret's backup troops and slave soldiers finally arrived. The sound of their footsteps was exceptionally chaotic, and they were panting heavily, clearly having run all the way.

"Drink!" the officer commanded, pulling out his waterskin and taking deep gulps.

"Despicable wretches, are you actually tricking us?" Ragnar demanded angrily, shouting at Margaret in exasperation.

"You will accompany us to my domain, and I shall have business to discuss with you! If you refuse, I shall send you to Valhalla!" Margaret tapped her fingers lightly against the scabbard of her treasured sword. The arrival of her troops bolstered her confidence even further.

"Then come over and try!" came Ragnar's arrogant reply.

Margaret, of course, had no intention of going over; she needed to wait until her soldiers had rested. Having come from afar, engaging in battle immediately would leave them at a disadvantage.

If she were Ragnar, she would immediately board her fleet and retreat now that all chances of victory were gone.

"Rest in place! Huscarls, maintain vigilance! Loose arrows the moment they attempt to weigh anchor or charge!" Margaret shouted at the top of her lungs.

Every soldier slumped down, some even lying flat on the ground. Running three kilometers under heavy loads was something only those who endured it could truly understand.

Let them play a war of attrition; let us see who outlasts whom!

When all was said and done, Margaret did not actually wish to kill Ragnar. She hoped the situation in the western lands would grow even more chaotic—the more chaotic, the better, as disorder would ultimately serve her interests.

A stalemate ensued. Putting herself in Ragnar and his men's shoes, Margaret reckoned that if she were in their position, she would certainly choose not to go to war with her, as there was nothing to gain and every possibility of annihilation.

They were Vikings, not fools.

"I repeat, we have now rested. If you accept my proposal and accompany me to my domain, I will provide you with a meal, and I have business to discuss with you! Choose whether to be friends or enemies!"

As time ticked away, Margaret's patience was exhausted. If the other party refused to agree any further, she would have no choice but to slaughter them all.

Their fleet meant little to her, and fighting them would cost her at most a hundred slaves—a price she was quite willing to pay.

"We agree!" Ragnar smiled, his cunning blue eyes fixed on Margaret's direction as he walked toward her.

An instant sensation of being targeted by a ferocious beast gripped Margaret, yet she could find no reason to fear him.

Forcing down the unease in her heart, she raised a hand. "Put down your bows and arrows! They are of use to me!"

Ragnar walked all the way up to Margaret. Upon realizing that the person in charge was a little loli, he froze for a moment.

"You seem rather surprised, friend from the west!" Margaret rested one hand on her hip and smiled at him.

Dismounting her donkey, she stepped before Ragnar. "We are all Scandinavian Norsemen; there is no need for bloodshed among kin, is there? My Danish friends!"

Tall of stature, Ragnar half-crouched and nodded. "Little Queen, what is this business you speak of?"

"I need slaves—large numbers of slaves, of any kind, preferably Norsemen as well. You can lure them over, and I will handle the rest. No matter the method, so long as you bring them, I shall give you fifty ounces of silver per Norseman. That is four times the original price!" Margaret held up four fingers.

Offering a high price to buy a prized horse, she hoped Ragnar would spread the word to other Danish lords, hence the exceptionally generous bounty for slaves.

"Fifty ounces of silver for a single Norseman slave? What about other slaves?" Ragnar inquired.

"I have no interest in other slaves; I can only offer twenty ounces of silver for them. But my greatest interest remains Norseman slaves. You won't try to fool me with slaves of other races, will you? In that case, I certainly won't pay you any extra reward!" Margaret spoke with a double entendre, half as a warning and half in jest.

"Of course!" Ragnar smiled, a dangerous gleam flashing in his eyes.

"We may discuss this within my domain. Rest assured, had I wished to harm you, your corpses would already have been tossed into the sea!" Margaret warned.

"Very well, we could indeed use a rest!" Ragnar approached, opening his arms in a friendly embrace.

At that very moment, the unexpected occurred. Floki suddenly yanked the oath-ring hanging from Margaret's neck and grabbed her by the garments.

Ragnar paused, momentarily paralyzed with horror, before joining Floki in subduing her with a single swift motion.

"What are you doing?" he glared at Floki.

Deliberately stirring up trouble, Floki trembled all over. Like a battle-crazed lunatic, he gripped the ring tightly, the muscles in his arms bulging as his voice shook: "Odin! Odin! Valhalla!"

The soldiers on both sides instantly clashed, but thanks to their numerical advantage, Ragnar and his men were soon surrounded.

"Drop your weapons! Give us gold and we shall leave, or else we kill her!" Ragnar clamped a hand over her mouth, glaring fiercely at Margaret's soldiers.