Chapter Fifteen: Are Nobles and Generals Born or Made?

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Soldiers, landlords, and serfs alike seized their weapons and, led spontaneously by the warband captain, ran toward the harbor to prepare for the invaders. The villagers also emerged, rushing to extinguish fires engulfing their homes. Ralph and his companions were ignored by the crowd.

For a moment, cries calling for loved ones and sobs filled the chaotic, tense air. Near the harbor, torches flickered in the darkness as two groups met and, unable to recognize each other, astonishingly began to fight.

“Stop! We’re on the same side! It’s a mistake!” someone shouted upon recognizing the others. It turned out both groups were Viking warbands who had responded to the alarm in two waves, rushing separately to defend the harbor. Because it was pitch black and they lacked uniform dress, they had mistakenly assumed the other to be hostile Norse invaders.

“Is there really an invasion? Let’s go! Hurry!” Ralph’s eyes widened as he urged on.

Many children gathered around him, clutching shields and weapons, and ran toward the High Priest’s house to prepare for the next course of action.

“Water…” Onni had long since awakened, her throat feeling as if it were on fire, though she had no idea what was happening.

Why had she been hung from a tree? Why was everything ablaze? Her memory was fragmented; all she could recall was a vague sense of what had happened before...

But it seemed she bore no marks of violation, which brought her some relief. Although she did not understand the circumstances, she knew she had been saved and her purity remained intact.

Watching the distant firelight, she worried about her barley field—those fields had been planted with money she had paid others to sow.

If they were burned, she and the children would starve. Amid such chaos, she could only pray to Loki, the god of fire and mischief, that all would be well.

If her barley burned, she thought wickedly, she would make those children pray to him every time they “used the bathroom!”

“Onni? Miss Onni?”

Suddenly, a voice called from below the tree. Onni looked down to see many children had arrived.

“We’ve come to rescue you!”

“You…” she tried to speak but was too weak to form words. Bound and hung by her hands, she swayed like a dangling corpse in the wind.

She felt a mix of emotion—some gratitude, some anger. She had already foreseen the consequences of defying Lady Jarl. It was all because of Lady Jarl!

As the ropes were cut, Onni was caught by a mass of hands beneath her. The sensation of suddenly floating and then being caught felt almost intoxicating, almost to the point of losing control.

For a fleeting moment, she felt like a snowflake, gently drifting down before being caught softly.

No one fumbled or mishandled her. Once lowered, Ralph immediately lifted her onto his back.

Perhaps because he was tall and she carried some extra weight, being carried by Ralph made her feel like a pin stuck into the ground.

A topsy-turvy world!

She sensed Ralph’s effort, but he seemed to enjoy it.

So this was what it meant to be shielded by a group of people? Wonderful! I love everyone, and everyone loves me!

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Looking at the crowd, with fate now sealed and irreversible, Onni felt a pang of melancholy—there was no turning back!

With nowhere left to cultivate, she had no choice but to take up arms to survive.

“Miss Onni, shall we go?”

“No!” She raised a trembling finger, her weak voice whispering into Ralph’s ear. “Ralph, when I speak, please relay my words.”

“All right!”

“My brothers and sisters, we still have one more task. Miss Onni asks: do you still have courage?”

She lifted a finger, too weak to straighten fully, pointing downward. The crowd glanced at her, then followed her finger to the ground.

Onni’s vision blurred as she struggled to straighten her finger; the others looked down as well.

There, a figure was skulking, peeking cautiously at them. Upon noticing their gaze, the figure fled inside.

“Enemy! The enemy has come!”

Onni heard faint voices—a young woman’s voice—and realized the lord’s hall’s main entrance, once heavily guarded, was now deserted.

She judged that the chaos and danger would force Lady Jarl to divert attention and troops to fight the fire, leaving the place temporarily unguarded.

This created an opportunity for her.

She could not simply abandon everything and flee; she must make up for her losses and seize treasures to prepare for escape.

Moreover, having no grievance or feud with Lady Jarl, who had nearly killed her and left her half-dead, if she chose to run away tonight, it would be difficult to seek revenge later.

Her only thought now was “an eye for an eye.”

She spoke: “What are you waiting for? Ralph?”

At her words, Robert stepped forward, drawing the axe from his belt. Shield in left hand, he charged toward Lady Jarl’s residence.

The others, including Ralph carrying Onni, followed him. Onni watched Robert’s determined lead, impressed by his fierce spirit and swift decisiveness.

She liked it!

At that moment, Robert and the others reached the lord’s hall doors but were stopped by sturdy gates.

“Open the door!” They swung axes at the wood; others kicked while shouting loudly.

“Move aside!” Robert shouted from a short distance, then charged at the door with a powerful shoulder ram.

No response; Robert bounced back—the door was solid.

“Hit it with me!”

With combined force, Robert and the others crashed into the gate, which finally gave way. The wooden door couldn’t withstand repeated pounding; the latch snapped in two.

Ralph carried Onni inside the hall. Four or five oil lamps hung on the walls, illuminating the interior brightly. Only then did Onni realize the place was empty.

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Looking at the burning bonfire and the glowing embers with unlit coals freshly added, she pondered quietly.

“Miss Onni, the back door is open!” someone shouted.

It seemed Lady Jarl had fled not long ago. Now, any pursuit without direction would be like searching for a needle in the sea.

“What a pity!” Onni whispered to Ralph with regret.

Ralph nodded: “Move all the treasures here! Hurry, we must evacuate quickly!”

Robert paced around, surveying Lady Jarl’s residence. Like an outsider, he seemed drawn to a locked room and approached it.

He pushed the door open easily; no latch barred it.

“Creak…” The door scraped unpleasantly.

At the bedside lay a woman draped over a man. The man foamed at the mouth, eyes wide open—clearly dead.

The woman slept as if dead herself, oblivious to what was happening around her.

Robert frowned and gently checked Lady Jarl’s nose for breath, confirming she was dead.

He stepped back quietly and joined Onni.

“Miss Onni, Lady Jarl is in the room. She appears dead. There’s a woman with her—probably Lady Jarl’s wife!”

Onni turned her head in confusion to look at Robert, then at Ralph, who carried her into the room.

Onni studied the woman on the bed, noting the callused hands resting on Lady Jarl’s shoulder.

“Miss Onni, shall we kill her?”

Onni shook her head: “She is not Lady Jarl. My enemy has fled!”

“Troublesome,” she said, though it was unclear if she referred to the escaped Lady Jarl or Robert.

Lady Jarl lay dead on the bed, lifeless, and they had just burst in.

Would the fleeing Lady Jarl accuse them of murder?

A wild thought flashed through Onni’s mind: did Lady Jarl’s death mean a new Jarl was about to rise?

But Lady Jarl left no heirs. Could Harold, then, succeed his brother and become the new lord?

She stared at Lady Jarl’s peaceful yet lifeless face, recalling the power she once wielded. Her gaze grew resolute.

Power—the thing people both love and hate—stirred a great tempest within her heart.

Kings, dukes, and generals—are they born or made?