Viking: Master of the Icy Sea

Chapter 178: Fortune and Misfortune are Hard to Predict

In late July, the residential construction in West Londinium was largely completed. Wigg personally oversaw the sales, introducing the citizens to this clean, tidy, and well-laid-out new district.

"Look here, these are the drainage ditches on both sides of the street. They collect rainwater and sewage, directing the flow into the River Thames to prevent the streets from turning to mud. The spacing between houses is also carefully calculated. If a fire breaks out, it will not spread across the entire district."

Compared to the filthy, cramped old city, several affluent citizens instantly fell in love with the new environment. The standard residences and merchant stations sold out in a flash, and even the high-end manors still under construction were pre-ordered.

Unlike the wooden houses of the common folk, these high-end manors were built with brick and stone. Their exteriors boasted stone walls as tall as two men. Inside, apart from the two-story main residence, there were auxiliary facilities including a small garden, a stable, a water well, a storehouse, a kitchen, and servant quarters.

There were fifty such manors in total, aimed squarely at the kingdom's wealthy nobles. Priced at thirty-five pounds each, a full twenty had already been sold despite being incomplete.

During a Cabinet meeting, Gorm noticed the Prime Minister was in high spirits and inquired about the profit made from this endeavor.

Wigg did not hide the success from his peers. "After deducting expenses, we made a profit of two thousand pounds. Once we sell the remaining high-end manors, we can bring in another thousand. We can finally breathe a little easier for the next few months."

With the financial pressure slightly relieved, everyone cheered in unison. A joyful atmosphere permeated the entire Cabinet. Wigg comfortably soaked in his colleagues' praises, planning to report this excellent news to the King shortly after.

However, he soon regretted it.

Starting in August, expenses across the board suddenly skyrocketed. Everyone was clamoring for money. The Palace Steward, Paffis, was especially persistent, visiting the Prime Minister's official residence every few days, each time armed with a different excuse."What? The animals at the Royal Manor were stolen?"

Pushed beyond his limits, Wigg mounted his horse and charged straight to the Royal Manor in the northern suburbs of Londinium. Besides a variety of common flowers, a beautiful fountain had been constructed in the center of the courtyard. A Bronze Goddess Statue stood in the middle of the pool, with spring water bubbling constantly from her vase. A few lively little fish swam gracefully through the basin, making for a truly pleasing sight.

'It is all thanks to that damned eunuch, bringing the Byzantine Extravagance of Constantinople to Britain!'

Wigg cursed inwardly. Leading Utgard and a group of knights, he stormed into the backyard, grabbed a servant, and demanded, "The animals were stolen! How did this happen?"

The servant guided the Prime Minister to a collapsed section of the courtyard wall. "The stonemasons were lazy during construction. The wall's foundation was unstable, and it was washed away by the continuous rain over the past few days."

Immediately after, the servant and the Prime Minister entered the empty animal enclosures. "Perhaps wild wolves or similar beasts rushed in and ate all the captive swans and peacocks."

'Eaten completely?'

Wigg fought back the urge to draw his sword and commit murder. "I have lived for thirty years, and this is the first time I have ever heard of wild wolves eating poultry and swallowing the feathers along with the meat. Especially the peacock plumes! There is absolutely nothing left. Could it be a miracle?"

At that moment, Paffis arrived in a rush, his poor equestrian skills on full display, and pleaded with the Prime Minister to calm his anger.

"I am not angry. I merely suspect that someone stole the animals and then blamed it on some monstrous wolf capable of digesting feathers. Lord Steward, could you dispatch men to search the servants' quarters for any relevant clues?"

"Of course." With the situation escalating, Paffis dared not interfere. He watched as the knights ransacked the rooms and gathered all the servants for questioning.

Upon learning that two servants were missing, Wigg sent Utgard back to the city to mobilize the Royal Guard for a search of the vicinity. After a grueling half-day of effort, they failed to find the missing men, but they did discover fifty swans and peacocks locked in wooden cages.

The thieves had abandoned them in the wilderness in a rush. Due to fright and a lack of care, a quarter of the birds were already on the verge of death.

After this incident, Paffis opted to claim illness and rest, yet the palace's expenditures showed no signs of decreasing. As Wigg flipped through the recent account ledgers, the numbers were simply shocking. The two queens seemed to be locked in a bitter Queenly Rivalry. If one acquired a piece of jewelry, the other had to have it too, and it had to be of even higher quality to outshine her rival. Furthermore, their children's food and clothing had also become battlegrounds for their fierce competition.

"Arabian horses, armor, lances... Prince Ubba truly lives a lavish lifestyle."

Clutching a quill in his right hand, Wigg approved this massive bill of forty pounds, gesturing for the maid standing before his desk to collect the funds from the treasury.

"Wait, Lord Prime Minister, there is one more expense here." The maid handed over another slip of paper, which bore the same elegant handwriting of Queen Sola. "A scabbard sword worth fifty pounds! Are you joking with me?"

In Northern Europe, an iron sword was worth half a pound of silver. In Britain, where ironworking techniques were relatively advanced, the price of a standard iron sword was even lower, typically selling between eighty and one hundred silver pennies.

Wigg put down his quill and looked up at the Queen's personal maid, only to hear her lightly drop a single phrase: "A Damascus steel sword."

"No, even though a Damascus steel sword is precious, it is not worth that much. Back when Ivar the Boneless was in Constantinople, he completed a few commissions for a local gang leader and earned over ten pounds of silver, which he then used to trade for his Damascus steel sword, Heartbreaker. A price of fifty pounds is simply too steep. Who is the seller? Why was there no haggling?"

"Haggle? This is a gift prepared for the Prince. How could we possibly haggle?" Perhaps accustomed to being spoiled and arrogant, the personal maid curled her lip and uttered a sentence she would regret for the rest of her life.

"Prime Minister, the Prince holds a noble status. How could ordinary weapons be worthy of him? Please sign this quickly. If you delay any further and that steel sword is bought by someone else, the Prince will throw a fit. What will you use to answer him then? That Dragon's Breath Sword on your waist?"

The moment those words left her mouth, Secretary Loki, who had been standing nearby, immediately rushed to the desk to prevent the Prime Minister from drawing his sword and hacking this insolent maid to pieces.

"I... I..."

Freezing for a few seconds, the personal maid realized she had spoken terribly out of turn. In a panic, she fled the Prime Minister's residence, intending to seek asylum with Queen Sola.

As she was about to cross through the palace gates, her panic only intensified.

'Will the Queen protect me, or will she cast me aside? Gods above, Erin begs for your guidance.'

Trapped in this predicament, the maid's mind unexpectedly became sharp. She had been promoted to personal maid three months ago, reveling in the flattery of servants, guards, and even some nobles. However, the root of all this lay entirely in the Queen's trust.

Sitting under the shade of a tree, Erin patiently recalled all the little details about the Queen.

Without a doubt, Sola valued power and her son Ubbe the most, followed by the King, and then relatives like Hrolf and Erik Jr. Gradually, Erin came to a miserable realization—her own status was likely lower than that of the Queen's fluffy pet dog.

'If the Queen shields me, it will inevitably damage her relationship with the Prime Minister, affecting her authority and Ubbe's future. The wisest choice is to abandon me. Stupid Erin, you are truly finished this time.'

Stripped of all hope, Erin turned and left the Royal Palace, jogging all the way to the docks. By sheer luck, a Knarr ship was just preparing to set sail, bound for Normandy.

'I do not care anymore. If I stay, there is only one outcome: being personally disposed of by the Queen, just like my predecessor, and the one before her. I cannot stay in this hellhole any longer. I must flee first.'

After the maid had fled, Wigg and Loki stared at each other in the office. After a long while, Wigg let out a heavy sigh and pulled out a blank sheet of parchment to draft an official document.

"Your Grace, do you plan to write a formal report to the Queen?"

"There is no need for that. When you report to the King, just explain the matter in passing." It was a known fact, one Wigg had been aware of since the moment he took office, that the Prime Minister's Secretary delivered regular reports to the King.

Right now, the document he was drafting had nothing to do with the Queen or her maid. Instead, it was a Letter of Resignation.