Vikings: Lords of the Ice Sea

Chapter 55 Tyne Town

On May 15, Björn's longship arrived at Tynburg.

As soon as the ship docked, a group of armed civilians equipped with shields and axes approached and demanded to inspect the cargo.

“There are only some pig iron ingots and tar, nothing else.” Bjorn whistled as he let the armed civilians rummage through the cargo in the ship’s hold.

After the inspection, the armed civilian leader explained the rules of Tyne Town to the outsiders: "No stealing, robbing, or killing; remember to pay taxes after selling goods."

"Understood, we won't cause trouble."

Get rid of the noise, Bjorn told the crew to move around freely, while he himself strolled around the docks and visited a row of water-powered workshops along the riverbank.

"In driving water-powered mills and sawing wood, Vig actually learned the techniques of the Romans."

He arrived at the entrance of the water-powered lumber mill, where a rich aroma of wood filled the air. Flowing water turned the waterwheel, driving iron saw blades up and down through a linkage and gear mechanism. Laborers placed logs on the saw, cut them into planks according to specifications, and then transported them to horse-drawn carts outside, which were then transported to the carpenters' workshops inside the walls.

"Hey, get out of the way!" Just then, a dozen or so laborers carrying various tools entered the sawmill, seemingly preparing to install new saw blades. Bjorn secretly pondered:

One saw blade is as efficient as eight workers. We currently have three saw blades, and if we install two more, it will be equivalent to the work of forty workers. What does Vig need so much timber for?

Filled with doubt, Björn visited the nearby watermills and water-powered washing workshops, both of which were undergoing expansion. The bustling activity and noisy crowds made him yearn for the cities on the northern coast of the Mediterranean.

After observing for a full half hour, Bjorn passed through the gate on the south side of the wall and entered the inner area of ​​Tyne. To his astonishment, pedestrians and carriages all walked on the right, drainage ditches had been dug along both sides of the streets, and there was hardly any litter on the roads. The cleanliness far surpassed any town he had ever visited.

After wandering around for a while, he went into a nearby tavern. For a traveler who is often away from home, a tavern is often the best place to gather information.

"Two glasses of ale, and some dried beef, please."

Bjorn offered half a silver penny, but the bartender refused, "The lord forbids the unauthorized slaughter of oxen. Would you prefer mutton or pork?"

"pork."

Arriving at a corner of the tavern, he picked up his glass and took a small sip. The clear, sweet liquid slid down his throat and into his stomach, the aroma of malt mixed with a unique peat scent that left him wanting more.

"Is this ale? Are you sure you didn't get the wrong one?"

The bartender, wiping glasses with a rag behind the counter, looked up impatiently. "That's right, it's ale. The lord built a large brewery, selecting the finest wheat grains, and strictly controlling the quality of each production process. The resulting ale is far superior to the inferior brews made haphazardly by ordinary farmers. And you're lucky; all the taverns have a discount on drinks on the 1st and 15th of every month, and you just happened to be there on that day."

Bjorn quickly finished two large glasses of ale, pulled out a handful of silver pennies and placed them on the counter, saying, "Give me a few more barrels, we'll drink them slowly after we set sail."

"Just a heads up, the tavern offers discounted bulk drinks, but bulk purchases will only be charged at the original price."

"Stop arguing, I don't need this little bit of money."

After carrying the drinks back to the ship, Bjorn followed the flow of people to the town square. A tall, black temple stood on the east side. He strolled around inside; the atmosphere was solemn and dignified, unlike the gloomy atmosphere he had imagined. On the north side of the square was a large bulletin board area, displaying notices in Norse, Latin, and Anglo-Saxon, with some small vendors posting their trading information. A loud-voiced, middle-aged, overweight man stood in front of the bulletin board, recounting the lord's decrees and recent news to passersby.

"It is recommended that each of the five neighboring households keep at least one cat for catching mice."

"Residents are advised to drink boiled water, especially young children."

"Blacksmiths and stonemasons who move to Tyne Town can get a free plot of land to open a shop."

"Recently, there have been frequent wars in Northern Europe, and a large number of Vikings have migrated to Britain. There may be sporadic raids along the coast. Please be vigilant!"

The mayor's residence was located on the west side of the square. Bjorn glanced at it from the doorway before being chased away by the guards. Moving to the south side, he heard children making noise coming from a courtyard. Observing the situation through the window, he found a group of children sitting on stools, staring blankly at the diagrams and mathematical formulas on the blackboard.

The shaman on the platform chanted: "The sum of any two sides of a triangle is greater than the third side, and the sum of the three angles is 180 degrees."

The children weakly echoed, "The sum of any two sides of a triangle is greater than the third side."

After watching for less than half a minute, Bjorn suddenly felt bored. "Mathematics? This stuff is no fun at all. Why not teach them combat skills?"

Finally, he arrived at the southwestern area of ​​Tyne Town, where the terrain was higher and a square wooden fortress sat on a low hill in the southwest corner, with a black dragon flag flying on top.

"I'm Bjorn. If you need anything, talk to Vig."

With his Mediterranean voyage concluded, Björn's fame soared, and he was hailed as a great navigator of the new generation. Upon discovering the legendary figure's arrival, the shield guards on the wall respectfully replied, "My lord is outside the city overseeing agricultural work; I will show you the way."

The next moment, the wooden door opened a crack, and a shield guard led Bjorn away from Tyne Town. They walked west for a long time and finally arrived at a hillside facing south.

Strangely, many thin wooden sticks were stuck in the field. Bjorn, who was very knowledgeable, had never seen this method before.

Seeing the visitor's puzzled expression, Vig picked up a seed from the soil.

"This is the plant that the Germanic people used to brew wine. Its Latin name is 'Humulus lupulus,' and I plan to name it 'hops.' Hops are climbing plants and need support to help them grow upwards. Thin sticks serve as support, giving the hop vines something to twine around."

Bjorn took the seeds and examined them patiently. "You're making wine from this plant that tastes even better than mead and grape wine?"

Vig shook his head. “Taste isn’t the key point; it’s the shelf life of the beverage. Ale only lasts a maximum of three weeks, making it suitable for sale in nearby areas. According to the Germanic experience, using hops significantly extends the shelf life to several months. In this way, the beverages brewed in Tyne can be shipped to various parts of Northern Europe, and profits will increase dramatically.”

After a brief chat, Vig asked Bjorn about the purpose of his visit and was quite puzzled to learn that the other was about to set off to find the legendary "Jotunheim".

"That place is just a desolate wasteland. Is there some special reason why you are in such a hurry to go out to sea to search for it?"

(End of this chapter)