Viking: Master of the Icy Sea

Chapter 229: The Serpent and the Dragon

Returning to Caen, Gunnar sent Robert and Ynja away under his wife's resentful glare. As he watched the carriage gradually fade into the distance, a deep sense of unease gnawed at him; he sincerely doubted whether "Ynja" could properly play the role of a "princess."

Suddenly, a servant came to report that an envoy from the King of Britain had arrived to discuss the ransom for the prisoners of war.

Gunnar received the envoy in the castle hall. As he carefully verified the information on the roster, his mood grew increasingly irritable.

"I cannot gather that much money."

The envoy had anticipated this. "His Majesty reminded me that you can use warhorses to offset the debt. Each warhorse is valued at three pounds of silver, and the number of warhorses provided must not be less than three hundred."

After Ragnar's second invasion of West Francia, relations between the two countries had completely ruptured. Charles the Bald strictly forbade nobles from smuggling warhorses, even using it as a pretext to strip two barons of their territories.

Later, Charles led his army to conquer Breizh once again, slaughtering nearly all the nobles who dared to resist. Since then, Britain's channels for acquiring warhorses were completely severed.

Hearing the conditions, Gunnar wanted to refuse, but the envoy spoke up first. "On my way here, I released the news in the towns along the route. The families of those prisoners of war have already caught wind of it. If you do not want to be relentlessly pestered by them, you had best pay the ransom quickly. The prices for the eighty-two nobles are registered on the roster. The ransom for the common soldiers is half a pound of silver each."

'Common soldiers?'

Gunnar stroked his chin. He only intended to ransom the commoners from his own territory and leave the rest to fend for themselves.After mulling it over, he agreed with the envoy to ransom the first batch of prisoners next month. Before leaving, the envoy whispered a proposal, "My lord, have you considered resuming the smuggling of warhorses? The price is highly negotiable."

Gunnar shook his head vigorously. In recent years, the power of Charles the Bald had grown exponentially, and he did not dare offend the Frankish king for such a meager profit. Moreover, he still harbored illusions of retaking Britain, making him entirely unwilling to sell warhorses that would allow Wigg to build a massive cavalry force.

"Is that so? What a pity."

The envoy bowed and took his leave.

The year advanced to 859.

"It is raining again. How is anyone supposed to live like this?"

Having lived in Londinium for over a month, Wigg loathed the cold and damp local climate. Its only redeeming quality was the lack of heavy snowfall and frost.

After a half-hour morning workout in the back garden, Wigg hastily ate some breakfast and started work exactly at eight o'clock. Building this empire had not been easy, and he dared not slack off in the slightest.

After spending two hours reviewing documents in his office, Gorm sought him out to deliver the briefing from the Cabinet meeting. Just last month, Wigg had specifically assigned a clerk to take written records during their sessions.

After reading it from beginning to end, Wigg wearily rubbed his eyes. "Why have the supervisors of the silver mines not replied yet?"

As early as Ragnar's era, the Crown had appropriated the three most productive silver veins. Their locations were as follows:

Derby in Nottinghamshire, where silver was found alongside lead and zinc veins.

Callington in Cornwall, where silver was extracted from copper and tin veins.

The northwestern region of Cumbria, located within Deventer and serving as the earldom of Ivar the Boneless, where silver was sourced from lead mines.

During his tenure as Prime Minister, Wigg had reviewed the relevant data. Converted to the metric system of his past life, the total annual output of the three silver mines was roughly six to seven hundred kilograms.

At the time, Wigg suspected that the various mining regions were underreporting their yields and had planned to send investigators. However, he had resigned before any results could surface.

After proclaiming himself king, he viewed these three silver mines as his personal assets. He ordered the respective regions to urgently report their outputs and transport the silver ingots, which the Royal Mint would then use to produce Silver Pennies.

Having experienced Wigg's rigorous working style firsthand, Gorm did not mince his words. "There is a major issue with the silver mine in Derby. I recommend arresting the mining supervisor. The supervisors of the other two mines are slightly better; they were likely delayed on the road."

'My money!'

Wigg's fury instantly spiked.

"Good. Handle this personally. Seek assistance from the standing army if necessary. I want to see the results of the investigation within half a month." After sending Gorm away, Wigg continued to review the myriad of documents and ledgers. In times of peace, the most critical task was managing finances, and he absolutely loathed anyone who dared to steal from his own pockets.

Just before lunch, the guards reported that an envoy from the Kingdom of Norway was waiting.

"Let him in."

Soon after, the envoy entered the room. Looking at the man seated behind the desk, dressed in a black robe embroidered with golden dragons, he bowed respectfully in greeting.

"Does Erik Jr. need something from me?" Wigg, eager to eat his lunch, skipped the pleasantries.

"Er, he heard that you proclaimed yourself king and specifically sent me to deliver gifts in congratulations."

The envoy pulled a manifest from his coat: white bearskins and white wolf pelts. The gifts themselves were not overly expensive, but their symbolic meaning was paramount—since Wigg's ascension to the throne, Erik Jr. was the first monarch to formally recognize his rule.

"You have my deepest thanks."

Suddenly, Wigg remembered a pressing matter. "Previously, your king purchased three two-masted brigantines from the Tynemouth Shipyard. That transaction is now canceled, as I am assembling a standing navy and the shipyard cannot spare any excess production capacity.

"How about this," Wigg offered. "The previous deposit will be refunded in full, and I will gift Erik Jr. two Knarr ships as a token of my gratitude."

The envoy readily accepted the proposal. Wigg was currently at the height of his power, making it unwise to spark any disputes with him. Moreover, picking up two free Knarr ships meant the king would not make things difficult for him upon his return.

That afternoon, Wigg continued to process documents. After an unknown amount of time, a guard came to report that the carriages of the Queen and the two princes had arrived at the city outskirts.

"Ah, how could I have forgotten about this?" Wigg summoned Utgard and ordered the Royal Guard to go out and receive them.

Heregyth had written a letter last month stating that they were practically emptying out all of Teyne. Aside from their luggage, they were bringing the vast majority of the servants, totaling fifty supply wagons. At the time, Wigg had even specially dispatched a Ranger Company and an infantry battalion to escort them.

At dusk, Heregyth stepped down from her carriage and surveyed the high-class manor before her. She couldn't help but feel a slight sense of disappointment. She had always looked forward to moving into the Royal Palace. Given her husband's frugal nature, she figured that was off the table for the foreseeable future.

After dinner, Wigg returned to his office to handle his paperwork, while Heregyth sent the two little ones to bed.

"Show me around," she requested. Led by a maid, she familiarized herself with her new home. A long while later, the lights in the second-floor office were still burning bright.

Pushing the door open, Heregyth saw her husband sitting behind his desk, resting his chin on one hand. His gaze was fixed on the bronze mirror in the corner, lost in thought.

Walking up behind him, she gently stroked his smooth hair and softly sighed. "Thinking back to the past, you used to argue with people endlessly, insisting that your crest was a dragon and not a serpent, but everyone still called it a serpent. On my way here to Londinium, I heard many people speak of you. They have all taken the initiative to change their tune, declaring that the giant dragon of Asgard has descended into the mortal realm and is destined to conquer everything. Heh, fate is truly quite something."

Staring at his blurry reflection in the mirror, Wigg's expression was calm as he casually muttered a Chinese proverb, "A great man must know when to soar like a dragon and when to hide like a serpent." He then switched to the Norse language and said:

"It doesn't really matter anyway. I've moved past caring; they can call me whatever they want. Serpent or dragon, my starting point was simply that of a free farmer in Northern Europe. There is no denying that, but the gods never decreed that a farmer by birth must remain a farmer for life.

"Kingship is not divine. A slave can become an emperor—like Macrinus, Rome's first African-born emperor, who ascended the throne in 217 AD after being a slave, gladiator, soldier, and Royal Guard commander. A wandering knight can become an emperor. A straw sandal merchant can become an emperor... Ultimately, emperors and kings are simply those with the strongest armies and the sturdiest horses. The so-called 'divine and inviolable right of kings' is nothing but a lie concocted by nobles and the church to deceive the commoners."

"After all these years, you haven't changed a bit." Heregyth had long since grown accustomed to her husband's outrageous remarks.

She leaned down, wrapping her soft arms around him from behind and resting the upper half of her body against his back as she thought to herself:

'Perhaps knowledge is a curse. The more you know, the lonelier and more troubled you become. Wigg is like this, and so am I. I have been solitary by nature since childhood, so much so that I could never find playmates and was constantly nagged by my parents.

'With his vast knowledge and intellect, it is fortunate that he married me, allowing us to at least converse from time to time. If he had married someone like Aslaug—an ignorant brute who only knows how to hack at people with an axe—he probably wouldn't even be able to string a sentence together with her.'