Viking: Master of the Icy Sea

Chapter 172: Borrowing Against the Future

That afternoon, Locke escorted the delivery of silver into the treasury. When he returned to the Prime Minister's official residence to report back, he found thirteen Viking aides sitting in the first-floor hall. Their left hands fiddled with a strange tool, while their right hands tightly gripped quill pens, writing furiously. It seemed they were auditing the accounts.

"What is this thing?" Locke leaned closer to take a careful look.

The young man looked up, his eyes revealing the kind of disdain reserved for rural barbarians. "An abacus. It is a calculating tool taught to us by the Duke, originating from the great Eastern Empire of Tang."

After speaking, the young man went back to processing the accounts before him. He was Viggo's personal aide, attached to the ducal estate. He answered only to Viggo himself, owed no allegiance to the King, and certainly felt no need to curry favor with Locke.

Silently reciting the rules of abacus calculation, the aides expertly flicked the beads. The upper and lower rows of oak beads danced beneath their fingertips, filling the first-floor hall with the sharp clack-clack-clack of colliding wood.

As the sky gradually darkened, bright whale oil candles were lit in the surrounding sconces, illuminating the room as if it were day. The aides worked overtime late into the night and resumed their tasks the following morning. With an efficiency Locke had never witnessed before, they managed to clear last year's accounts in a mere three days.

To everyone's surprise, the results calculated by the aides did not differ significantly from the ledger Pascal had left behind. There truly was a deficit of twelve thousand pounds from the previous year.

Pascal had not embezzled any money?

A wave of genuine confusion welled up within Viggo. Why would a surrendered Anglo-Saxon noble work so diligently for over a decade? What was it all for?

He summoned Locke, who was in low spirits, and received an unexpected answer."Twelve years ago, when His Majesty was still the King of Northumbria, someone suggested that he confiscate the assets of the monasteries. The Prime Minister talked him out of it. He promised to solve the financial issues on the condition that His Majesty protect all the monasteries within the borders."

So that was it. Viggo finally grasped the gist of Pascal's motives. The former Prime Minister had seemingly treated this job as some form of penance, working himself to death in office.

"Was it all worth it?"

Feeling the weight of that dedication and sacrifice, Viggo stood up and walked to the window. He gazed out at the large expanse of yellowing clover lawns for a long time. Finally, he resolved to reverse their current downward spiral.

Returning to his desk, Viggo flipped through the aides' summary report. The vast majority of last year's twelve-thousand-pound debt originated domestically.

"Ragnar was preparing for an expedition, and Pascal didn't have the money to pay the bills for all the supplies. He could only delay payment. Let me see who the unlucky bastards are."

Ranking first was Ethelwulf, the Duke of Wessex. The royal family had requisitioned his grain and ships, totaling a value of one thousand pounds.

Next was the Duke of Mercia. To pay the wages of soldiers whose service was extended, the royal family had borrowed eight hundred pounds from him, with no specified repayment date.

Then came the Earl of Kent, Ulf. His territory had a thriving commercial trade, and Pascal had requisitioned many of its supplies, totaling five hundred pounds.

For the Duke of Tainburg, the royal family had continuously demanded raw iron ingots worth four hundred pounds for the production of armaments. The payment had yet to be delivered.

From the Earl of East Anglia, the royal family had borrowed four hundred pounds and conscripted five hundred sheep.

Aside from the great nobles, the merchants and gentry of the Londinium region were not spared either. Their wealth had been forcibly funneled into the expedition. The troublesome part was that the Northern European lords had surrendered without a fight. The army acquired no spoils of war, which completely shattered Pascal's idea of using plunder to pay off the debts.

Furthermore, Denmark and Sweden had always been impoverished. Coupled with the ravages of war, the annual revenue they submitted to the royal family was negligible. From an economic standpoint, this expedition was an unmitigated disaster.

"It's all Halfdan's fault. If he had just stayed quietly in Gothenburg, the war never would have broken out in the first place. Because of his reckless meddling, countless commoners suffered casualties, the treasury bled over ten thousand pounds, and more than ten thousand of us were dragged all the way to Northern Europe just to freeze in the wind."

Locked in his study for most of the day, Viggo drafted a financial report. The following day, he convened a meeting with Locke and the aides to discuss it.

Once he confirmed there were no errors, Viggo headed to the main hall on the third day to inform Ragnar of their current predicament. "Your Majesty, we ran a deficit of twelve thousand pounds last year. Not long ago, I borrowed two thousand from the Berbers, and the projected repayment is three thousand three hundred. The grand total comes to fifteen thousand three hundred pounds. Here is the detailed report."

Ragnar took the stack of papers, smiling bitterly at his two Queens. "We were doing quite well over the past few years. To think we suddenly owe such a colossal sum. I truly don't know what to do."

At this moment, the fourth prince, Ubbe, who was standing at the bottom of the steps, waved his fist. "We are Vikings! Since when do we honestly pay off our debts? If anyone dares to collect, we'll slaughter them all!"

Viggo remained expressionless, not even bothering to explain things to the young boy. In his heart, he silently mused, 'The vast majority of the debt is owed to the vassals. If you dare to renege on it, your family's throne won't last long.'

Ragnar distributed the pages to the two Queens. The expressions of all three monarchs were grim. Seeing this, Sigurd, who was being held in Aslaug's arms, spoke up:

"I heard Alfred mention that when commoners owe money, they sell their cattle, sheep, and land to repay their debts. Father, our family owns a lot of land. Why don't we sell some to pay off what we owe?"

That was actually a viable solution.

When the previous Anglo-Saxon Kings encountered financial crises, their first priority was to raise taxes. Their second option was to borrow money from the church, using land as collateral.

His youngest son's casual remark reminded Ragnar of something. He had confiscated Niels's fief—Nottingham—last year. It was perfectly suited to be sold off for emergencies.

However, Viggo's words swiftly crushed that wishful thinking:

According to civilian customs, the price of land was tied to its annual yield, typically ranging from ten to twenty times the yearly revenue. Niels had bled his territory dry to expand his army, leaving barely any agricultural estates under his name. If they merely sold the land itself, they would raise three or four hundred pounds at most.

As for the town of Nottingham, assuming Ragnar was willing to grant a Royal Charter allowing the townspeople self-governance, he could extort an additional sum. However, the population was less than two thousand, meaning the provided income would be strictly limited.

After listening to his explanation, Aslaug spoke up hesitantly, "Well, what if we bundled the land and noble titles together for sale? Purchasing a manor grants a knightly title, or possibly even a Baron..."

Halfway through her sentence, she clamped her mouth shut, immediately regretting sprouting such foolish words.

Selling official posts and noble titles was tantamount to draining the royal family's prestige. Moreover, the various nobles would fiercely oppose it—we put our lives on the line for our military merits and honor, how could we allow such blatant trampling of our legacy!

Seeing that everyone had fallen silent, Viggo finally presented his own proposal:

First, implement a luxury tax. Levy heavy taxes on wine, spices, cane sugar, and dyed fabrics.

Second, organize the reclamation of wastelands.

Third, promote the cultivation of clover to expand the size of the sheep flocks. At the same time, sign supply agreements with various merchants, paying off the debts with wool instead of precious metals.

Fourth, audit the accounts of the two royal demesnes in York and Tamworth. These two territories are located far from the royal court, so oversight must be strengthened.

By doing this, we can expect an annual fiscal surplus of over two thousand pounds. Eight years from now, we might be able to fully repay the fifteen thousand pounds and achieve financial stability.