After the fleet departed, the marine battalion remained in Denmark to continue recruiting migrants.
Along the way, they occasionally encountered bandits.
Most of them, seeing the black banner, fled imdiately—none dared provoke Vig's army.
A few desperate fools attacked anyway, only to end up as prisoners.
"These people are so poor there's barely anything worth looting," Ingvar complained after one skirmish.
At that mont, he finally understood the old captain's attitude.
"…No wonder everyone prefers the southern routes."
Canary Islands
anwhile, in the Canary Islands, three rchant ships loaded with sugar and rum departed the harbor amid cheers.
Their tall hulls cut through the waves as they sailed north.
Four days later, at noon—
The lookout suddenly raised the alarm.
Seven ships with triangular lateen sails had appeared behind them, quietly following.
The atmosphere aboard instantly turned tense.
Experienced sailors recognized the ships imdiately:
Moorish vessels.
"Signal the fleet—full sail ahead. Shake them off as soon as possible!"
The captain wanted no trouble.
He ordered the crew to maintain course and stay alert.
The Wind Turns
By mid-afternoon, disaster struck.
The wind shifted without warning.
The favorable southeast wind turned into a headwind.
For the two-masted square-rigged ships, this was the worst possible situation.
square sails perford poorly against the wind
they had to rely on auxiliary sails
anwhile, the Moorish ships, with their lateen sails, handled headwinds far better.
Like sharks slling blood, they began closing in.
Panic spread among the crew.
At last, the captain gave the order:
"Fire the ballista—warning shot!"
A heavy thud echoed as a stone projectile splashed into the sea just dozens of ters from the Moorish ships.
A clear warning.
But the enemy ignored it.
Instead, they spread out—preparing to encircle the convoy.
The battle was inevitable.
Naval Combat
The three rchant ships opened fire.
They coordinated their shots, targeting the leading enemy vessel.
After five volleys—
A heavy stone struck true.
Wood splintered. The ship shuddered, its hull torn open.
Its speed dropped.
Cheers erupted from the rchant crews.
But the celebration was short-lived.
The remaining six ships—and even the damaged one—kept advancing.
Using their superior maneuverability, they closed the distance rapidly.
"Switch to fire pots!"
The rchants replaced stone shot with flammable oil jars.
One pirate ship caught fire along its side, forcing the crew to scramble and douse the flas.
But it wasn't enough.
Boarding Attempt
The pirates reached the ships.
So threw grappling hooks, others launched volleys of arrows.
Arrows rained down like locusts, pinning the Viking sailors to the deck.
"Return fire!" the captain shouted.
"Don't expect rcy—if they capture you, you'll spend your life in a plantation!"
Now, the rchant ships' design proved its worth.
Their high hull sides beca natural defenses.
From above, the Vikings fired downward:
crossbow bolts rained onto enemy decks
pirates attempting to climb were cut down
"Starboard! Cut their ropes!"
Axes chopped through grappling lines.
Boarding pirates were hacked down and thrown back into the sea, staining the water red.
Pirate Retreat
As casualties mounted, the pirates' assault faltered.
Soon, they broke off and retreated toward the horizon.
Two slower pirate ships, struck by fire pots, were engulfed in flas.
Their crews abandoned them, fleeing in small boats.
"Damn fools," the captain growled.
"They dare rob Vikings—do they even know what we used to be?"
The Cost
Victory ca at a price.
Out of 45 crewn:
7 dead10 wounded
They had also expended:
large amounts of ammunition20 expensive fire pots
And gained nothing.
Worse still—
This was the first pirate attack since opening the Canary route.
It would not be the last.
A Difficult Choice
The first mate approached.
"Do we return to Sunshine Island, or continue to Britannia?"
The captain shook his head.
"If we turn back now, we'll face them again next ti."
"They've already marked us."
"More ships will co."
The ships had only minor damage.
He made his decision:
"We continue north—to Gijón in Asturias for repairs."
A New Threat
The captain's fears proved correct.
Eight days later—
Sunshine Island itself was attacked.
A newly completed fortress stood on a hill north of the harbor.
At the watchtower, a militia guard stood duty.
The heat was oppressive.
His linen shirt clung to his skin, soaked with sweat.
His gaze drifted lazily across the empty sea.
Then—
Sothing caught his eye.
At first, he thought it was a flock of birds… or a heat mirage.
He rubbed his eyes.
Looked again.
The shapes grew clearer.
A vast cluster of sails appeared on the horizon.
Triangular sails.
Only Moorish ships used that design.
His eyes widened.
A chill ran down his spine, cutting through the heat.
"By Odin… what is there here worth stealing?"
He snapped to attention, stumbled to the alarm bell—
and rang it with all his strength.
—------------------------------
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