Ch 55: Tyne Town

On May 15th, Bjorn’s longship arrived at Tyne.

As the ship just docked at the dock, a group of armed commoners equipped with shield axes came over and demanded to check the goods.

“Just some iron ingots and tar, nothing else.” Bjorn whistled, allowing the armed commoners to ransack the ship’s cabin goods.

After the check ended, the leading armed commoner introduced the rules of Tyne Town to the outsider, “No stealing, pillaging, or murder. Remember to pay taxes after selling goods.”

“Understood, we won’t cause trouble.”

Getting rid of this noisy interruption, Bjorn ordered the sailors to act freely. He himself strolled around the dock, visiting a row of water-powered workshops distributed along the riverbank.

“Driving water mills and sawmills, Vig has actually learned Roman technology.”

He came to the entrance of the water-powered sawmill. A strong smell of timber emanated from inside. Water turned the water wheel, which, through a connecting rod and gear structure, drove the iron saw blade up and down. Laborers placed logs on the saw bed, cutting them into pieces of wooden planks according to specifications, then carrying them to the wagons outside and transporting them to the carpenter’s workshop inside the walls.

“Hey, get out of the way!” At this time, more than ten laborers walked into the sawmill carrying various tools, seemingly preparing to install new saw blades. Bjorn secretly calculated:

The efficiency of one saw blade is equivalent to eight laborers. Currently, there are three saw blades. If two more are installed, the total will be equivalent to the workload of forty laborers. What does Vig need so much timber for?

With doubts, Bjorn visited the nearby water mill and water-powered laundry. These two workshops were also undergoing expansion. The busy and noisy atmosphere, the bustling crowd, made him miss the cities on the Northern Coast of the Mediterranean Sea.

After watching for a full half an hour, Bjorn went through the gate of the South Side wall and entered the inner area of Tyne Town. To his astonishment, pedestrians and wagons all walked on the right, drainage ditches were excavated on both sides of the streets, and there was almost no garbage on the road. The cleanliness far exceeded any town he had ever been to.

After strolling for a while, he walked into a nearby tavern. For a traveler who is often away from home, a tavern is often the best place to gather news.

“Two cups of ale, and some dried beef.”

Bjorn handed over half a silver penny, but was rejected by the barkeep. “The lord forbids the private slaughter of oxen. Mutton or pork?”

“Pork.”

Arriving at a corner of the tavern, he picked up the goblet and took a sip. The clear and sweet liquid slid down his throat into his abdomen. The fragrance of malt was mixed with a unique peat aroma, leaving a lingering aftertaste.

“Is this ale? Did you get it wrong?”

The barkeep was wiping goblets with a rag behind the counter. He impatiently raised his head, “No, it’s ale. The lord built a large brewery, selecting the best barley grains, strictly controlling the quality of each production process. The resulting wine is far better than the inferior ale casually brewed by ordinary peasants. And you’re lucky, on the 1st and 15th of each month, all taverns sell drinks at a discount, and it just so happens to be this day.”

Soon, Bjorn finished two large cups of ale, took out a handful of silver pennies and placed them on the counter, “Bring a few more barrels, I’ll drink them slowly after going to sea.”

“A reminder, the tavern offers discounted bulk drinks, but bulk purchases can only be made at the original price.”

“Less chatter, I’m not short of this little money.”

After carrying the drinks back to the ship, Bjorn followed the flow of people to the town center square. A tall black temple stood on the East Side. After entering, he casually walked around. The atmosphere was solemn and solemn, not as gloomy as he imagined.

On the North Side of the square was a large bulletin board with notices written in Norse, Latin, and Anglo-Saxon. Some small merchants also posted transaction information on it. A loud middle-aged fat one stood in front of the bulletin board, narrating to the pedestrians the decrees issued by the lord and the recent news.

“It is suggested that five neighboring households should keep at least one cat for catching mice.”

“It is suggested that residents drink boiled clean water, especially young children.”

“Blacksmiths and stonemasons who move to Tyne Town can get a piece of open space to set up shops for free.”

“Recently, the war in Northern Europe has been frequent, and a large number of Vikings have moved to Britain. There will be sporadic pillaging incidents in the coastal region. Be vigilant!”

The Town Mayor’s official residence is located on the West Side of the square. Bjorn glanced at the entrance twice before being chased away by the guards. Coming to the South Side, he heard the noise of children from a courtyard. He observed the situation through the window and found a group of children sitting on stools, their eyes listlessly looking at the shapes and mathematical formulas on the blackboard.

The shaman on the podium chanted: “The sum of two sides of a triangle is greater than the third side, and the sum of three angles is equal to 180 degrees.”

The children weakly echoed: “The sum of two sides of a triangle is greater than the third side.”

After less than half a minute, Bjorn felt a sense of boredom, “Mathematics? This is not fun at all, why not teach them combat skills?”

Finally, yawning, he came to the Southwest Area of Tyne Town. The terrain here was higher. A square wooden fort stood on the low hill in the Southwest Corner, with a black dragon flag erected on top.

“I am Bjorn, I have something to discuss with Vig.”

The Mediterranean voyage ended, and Bjorn “Ironbone”‘s fame soared, and he was hailed as the new generation of great navigators. Discovering the legendary figure’s visit, the shield-bearers on the wall respectfully replied: “The Lord is supervising farming outside the city. I will guide you now.”

The next moment, the wooden gate opened a crevice, and a shield-bearer took Bjorn out of Tyne Town and walked west for a long time, finally arriving at a slope facing south.

Strangely, many slender wooden sticks were inserted into the fields. Bjorn had seen a lot, but this was the first time he had seen this method.

Faced with the visitor’s puzzled expression, Vig picked up a seed from the soil.

“This is a plant used by the Germanic people for brewing. Its Latin name is ‘Humulus lupulus’, and I intend to name it ‘hops’. Hops are climbing plants and need supports to help them grow upwards. The thin wooden sticks serve as supports, giving the hops vines something to twine around.”

Bjorn took the seed and carefully examined it, “You use this plant to brew wine, the taste is better than honey wine and wine?”

Vig shook his head, “Taste is not the point, but the shelf life of the wine. Ale has a shelf life of at most three weeks and is suitable for sale to nearby areas. According to the experience of the Germanic people, after using hops, the shelf life of the wine is greatly extended to several months. In this way, the wine brewed in Tyne Town can be shipped to various places in Northern Europe, and the profit will increase dramatically.”

After a few casual conversations, Vig asked Bjorn the purpose of his visit. Learning that the other party was about to set out to find the legendary “Jotunheim”, he was very puzzled.

“That’s just a wasteland. You’re in a hurry to go to sea to find it. Is there any special reason?”