章 15: The cost of victory

In the village center, Sven and Ibssen met Peder, who was sitting while a young woman with brown hair and blue eyes was stitching his arm.

"Jarl Sven, I'm glad you are well and thank you for coming, but I would like to inform you…"

Peder winced and looked at the woman next to him with some discomfort; the woman raised her gaze and saw Peder's sad look. "You are already a man Peder.

You can't let the pain get the better of you. "

Peder forced a smile, "I know Felipa, but I would rather fight and die than feel the thread run through my skin."

Felipa sighed and, ignoring Peder continued to close the wound. "I don't know what you're complaining about, you're lucky that my mother is treating the seriously injured; I also remind you that Jarl is waiting for your report."

Peder then turned his face to Jarl with some haste. "Sorry for the interruption Jarl Sven; when I was guarding the stable and looked at the fire in the distance, I readied my spear and headed towards the village to support."

Peder then lowered his face, and his voice sounded quite melancholic. "On my way, I could see that the milkmaid's house was starting to burn, so I decided to go help.

Unfortunately for me, I could only see a damn Viking leave the place, who was holding the head of Frida and her baby. "

Peder raised his gaze and stared into Sven's eyes. "I did what I had to do, I faced that scum, and in a fit of anger I cut off the hand with which it cut off their heads although it hurt me a bit in the process.

While beating him to catch him, he mentioned that he was a bastard son of the King of Denmark who had escaped with the Viking leader Klas, that's why I brought him alive.

I just hope that if its value is not significant enough, I hope you will let me finish off that scum. "

Sven put his hand on Peder's shoulder and nodded. "From the moment he came to our tribe, he is doomed."

After this, Sven and Ibssen left Peder and began to walk where the prisoners were; Max, who was on the beach, removed the linen hoods that covered the monks' faces on the Drakkar.

The three monks looked with fear at the young man with red hair in front of them; Max looked at the three monks and noticed that one of them had a too feminine face, so he pointed to it.

"You are a true woman," Max said in Latin.

The poor woman swallowed some saliva and covered herself in her companion's body, fearing that the young redhead would do something to her, one of the monks, surprised and afraid, shook his head.

"Young man is wrong; he is one of our monks who belong to our order of the papar, but I would like to ask, are you a Christian."

Max looked at the monk with derision "Sir monk, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not a Christian.

I am something much better, I am Einar Hermansen, son of the Jarl and emissary of Odin, the equivalent of a Jesus for his religion. "

The monk unconsciously stood up and glared at Max. "That is sacrilege, how dare you compare yourself to the son of God."

Max put his serious face and showed his yellowish teeth in a macabre smile as he put his sword on the monk's neck. "What do you know about god, monk, your religion bases its belief on texts that were written years after the death of Jesus.

I'm going to tell you a secret."

Max brought his head close to the monk's ear and said, "Judas Iscariot did not betray Jesus; on the contrary, he was the apostle most loved by the son of God."

The monk frowned as he looked fearfully at the young man, "You are a demon or something worse."

Max laughed at the monk's expression, "I'm not a demon, I'm just a young man who was enlightened by his gods, but I'm sure of something, monk."

The monk felt the cold of the sword leave his neck and looked in horror at the green eyes of the young redhead that did not seem to let him go, so he unconsciously got on his knees.

"When one dies, only absolute darkness awaits us, there is no heaven or hell.

I can tell you for sure that there is nothing good after death if you want to know my opinion, it is better that you enjoy your life. "

Max could hear how some warriors approached the Drakkar, so he hurried his speech, "Now dear monks and nun, from today you will be slaves so your life will change.

Just be obedient, and you won't die. "

Gerd, who approached the Drakkar along with other warriors, was surprised to see Einar speaking with three depressed monks in chains.

So he could only ask his companions to start unloading the booty from the ship to take it to the center of town for further division.

Max sighed and let the Vikings take the three monks and the valuable things off the ship.

In the center of the village, Sven held the hair of the bastard son of the King of Denmark as he watched the bodies of dead women and children piling up in a corner.

"Take a good look at what your people did and remember each of their faces."

The bastard looked in horror at the corpses that were missing their jaws, and a face of fear formed on his blood-filled face "Damn Jarl, let me go, or my father will avenge my death."

Sven looked at his stupid prisoner and, with all his might, punched him in the nose, causing his nasal septum to break.

"Your father is not in this place, and if he were, I would personally kill him, now see all the corpses damn garbage.

More than 70 people died, child women and warriors; if your father does not come to seek revenge for your miserable death, I will personally go to his stupid capital and hang him using his guts. "

After speaking, Sven threw the bastard to the ground and began to kick him, avoiding accidentally hitting a vital area of his body to prevent him from dying.

While he was kicking him, he could feel a hand on his shoulder, so he stopped his kicks and looked at his shoulder where he could see his son.

Max shook his head and began to speak while Kassia, next to him, translated what he was saying.

"Father, I understand your hatred, but this is not a punishment; at best, it is a reward.

Let me take care of this garbage; I also want you to help me order beer or mead so I can get something called Alcohol.

With this, we can save our wounded. "

Sven looked at the ground where he could see the bastard trying to crawl, so he smiled and patted his son. "All yours, don't disappoint me, Einar."

Max smiled back at his father, and with the help of two warriors, they brought a wooden table to the center of town where they put the bastard.

With great tranquility, Max chained and gagged the bastard while holding in his hand a sharp stone knife, Kassia who was next to him, had a small scroll with which she thought to record what Max did.

"Kassia, I never skinned a human before, but it's never too late to learn.

But it shouldn't be more complicated than a deer. "

The bastard tried to scream and free himself from the chains as he watched the stone knife approach his neck.

The people in the center of the town could hear the heartbreaking screams of the son of a king, Max who was controlling his knife, was not paying attention to the cries or the bastard's movements.

On the contrary, the more the bastard moved on the table, the stronger he held the knife in his hand, Sven who was watching everything in the front row, was interrupted by Eskol, who had a bandage on his arm.

"Jarl, we have done the count of the enemy troops; according to some prisoners, 200 enemies attacked us.

There are 157 corpses, 13 prisoners ... "

Eskol stopped his report when a muffled scream was heard; when he turned to look at the table, he understood why the bastard had screamed so loud and felt a chill in his crotch.

"As Jarl told you, there are 12 prisoners if we do not take into account the scum on that table, and 30 managed to escape.

You have some orders for the captives. "

Sven scratched his beard. "Einar gave me a very efficient idea, let the prisoners fit a large hole away from the town where to dump the corpses.

Once the pit is full of corpses, light a fire on them and tie the prisoners to one side, close enough for the heat to burn them but not to turn them in human torches. "

Eskol nodded and withdrew to do his duty as Sven enjoyed the symphony of screams.