novelraw Chapter 171: Taking Office
Chapter 171: Taking Office
In response to the Prime Minister's inquiry, Gorm, Ethelwulf, and Hrolf shook their heads in unison, indicating that there were no urgent matters requiring a report.
"I do, Your Excellency Prime Minister. I have a proposal."
Palace Steward Paffis handed over a beautifully handwritten document drafted in both Latin and the Norse language. Viggo quickly scanned through it. "Why do you need so much stone?"
"To repair the palace and the estates outside the city. It is His Majesty's will."
'Is that so?' Viggo remained skeptical, but he hesitantly signed and stamped the document. Since the other ministers had nothing else to discuss, today's cabinet meeting was adjourned.
Om stretched lazily. "My lords, I recently hired an Italian chef with excellent skills. Remember to come to my house for dinner tonight to celebrate the Prime Minister's successful inauguration."
The colleagues dispersed one after another. Viggo repeatedly scrutinized the two documents before seeking out Ragnar once again.
"Alright, just do as the documents say."
Ragnar stamped his seal and walked away yawning. The two Queens exchanged a glance and followed in their husband's footsteps, trailing a large entourage of maids and guards, leaving only Viggo standing dazed in the main hall.
'Wait, as the Prime Minister and Chancellor of the Exchequer, where is my office?'Viggo left the main hall in utter confusion, only to find a short, thin Anglo-Saxon clerk waiting outside the door with a stack of documents tucked under his arm. "Your Excellency, my name is Lodge, and I am your secretary."
Lodge wore a respectable black robe adorned with an emerald brooch. His light blond hair was meticulously combed. With a high bridge on his nose and the corners of his mouth slightly raised despite his detached gaze, he gave the illusion of a faint, mocking smile.
Following him, Viggo walked toward the western wall of the Royal Palace, where a small side door stood, similarly guarded by soldiers.
Passing through the gates and over the drawbridge, the two continued along the path until they finally arrived at a courtyard enclosed by stone walls. "This is your official residence as Prime Minister."
Entering the courtyard, they saw large patches of white clover planted inside. They were currently in a semi-dormant state, their color slightly yellowed.
"The former Prime Minister found clovers easy to maintain and never replaced them. If you dislike them, you can have the gardener plant something else, like marigolds, roses, lilies, or irises..."
Lodge rattled off a long list of names as if reading from a menu. Viggo raised a hand to stop his recitation. "No need. Clovers are perfectly fine."
Lodge pointed to a two-story building on the southern side of the courtyard. "This is the main building, designated for your residence and office."
He then introduced a long row of single-story houses on the left and right sides. "I just saw over forty people outside the gates of the Royal Palace. I presume they are your entourage. These rooms will be more than enough for them."
"Have someone call them over." Viggo stepped into the two-story building and handed the documents to Lodge. "His Majesty has approved these two applications. What is the next step?"
"Uh," Lodge offered a polite yet awkward smile. "There is a bit of bad news. The treasury is out of money."
'Fuck!'
Sensing his superior's sudden spike in anger, Lodge turned into a startled sheep and explained with fluent speed, "Do not worry! Before his death, the former Prime Minister negotiated a loan agreement. The merchant is waiting in the reception room over there. I will call him over immediately."
Before Lodge could take two steps, Viggo grabbed him by the back collar. "There is no rush. As the Chancellor of the Exchequer, I need to understand the kingdom's current financial situation."
'What a brutish Viking barbarian.'
Lodge complained inwardly, though he dared not show the slightest hint of anger on his face. "The royal family's income last year was eight thousand pounds, but expenditures reached twenty thousand, resulting in a total deficit of twelve thousand. In terms of expenses, various routine costs amounted to about eight thousand pounds, which roughly balanced the income.
"Another ten thousand pounds went toward expeditionary expenses, including material consumption, wages for extended military service, and rewards for the Nordic nobles.
"The final two thousand pounds were used to reorganize the Royal Guard. Ever since the expedition to Northern Europe two years ago, the wear and tear on armor and weapons have been severe, and we urgently needed to make up for the shortage."
Hearing this, a sense of ominous foreboding welled up in Viggo's heart. "Are you saying that we are already twelve thousand pounds in debt? Does the treasury have absolutely no concept of savings?"
Lodge shook his head. "None. The King is generous by nature. Every time he goes out hunting and sees peasants in tattered clothes by the roadside, he occasionally rewards them with silver coins, drinking and chatting with them. If guests arrive from afar, he enthusiastically hosts lavish banquets to entertain them. The former Prime Minister advised him against this many times, but it never had any effect."
Left with no other choice, Viggo received the merchant in the second-floor study. The man's name was Sancho, an Elder of the Berber Merchant Guild, and also the largest spice trader in Londinium.
"Your Excellency Prime Minister, do you still remember me?"
"I remember. I bought spices at your shop, and not long after, I found out your shop was smashed by your Rus competitors." Viggo invited the guest to sit down, sternly refusing the gift the man tried to present.
When it came to the loan, Sancho's terms were to lend two thousand pounds, to be repaid over five years, with an interest of one thousand five hundred pounds. An additional condition was that the guild's headquarters would be doubled in size.
"Can it not be cheaper?"
Upon being refused, Viggo threatened to approach the Rus Merchant Guild. As competitors, the Rus people would surely be very interested in snatching this business deal and expanding their own guild's territory.
Under a mix of coercion and enticement, Sancho agreed to lower the total interest to one thousand three hundred pounds. "The risk of such transnational loans is incredibly high. These are the most favorable terms I can offer."
Once the negotiation was settled, both parties signed an agreement drafted in Arabic, Latin, and the Norse language. Looking at the signature at the bottom, Viggo felt a complex mix of emotions. He never expected that his very first day in office would involve taking out a loan.
"Your Excellency, I shall personally go to the Berber Merchant Guild to collect the silver."
Having received permission, Lodge followed Sancho into the distance, leaving Viggo alone in the study to leaf through Pascal's financial reports.
After a long while, a knock sounded on the door. The arrivals were Utgard and Seaxburh.
"My lord, we have settled in. Do you have any orders?" Utgard was a knight from Glasgow County. Due to his conservative and rigid personality, he had been selected as the captain of the guard, responsible for Viggo's safety during his tenure.
Seaxburh was a civil official who, along with twelve colleagues, had followed the Duke south to form his private staff.
"I have already repeated the things to look out for many times. Remember, do not cause any trouble. Utgard, lead your men to take over the courtyard's defenses. Seaxburh, take your people and audit the accounts, focusing primarily on last year's various expenditures."
Viggo pointed at a massive chest full to the brim with receipts, tossing this arduous task over to his aides.
Running a hand through his hair, Seaxburh revealed a bitter smile. "Teacher, it feels like going back in time to when four classmates and I traveled to Dyfflin to help Ivar sort out his ledgers."
In response to his student's complaint, Viggo tiredly rubbed his eyes. "Last year's training course specifically emphasized that taxation and finance are the primary duties of any ruling faction. As the Prime Minister, dealing with all sorts of data is inevitable. I suspect Pascal exhausted his life precisely because of these matters. Sigh, I hope you all can help shoulder some of the burden."