Viking: Master of the Icy Sea

Chapter 252: A Helpless Choice

Leaving the brewery, Halfdan headed to the Gothenburg Textile Workshop not far away.

Pushing the door open, he saw over twenty women sitting at their looms, occasionally erupting into laughter. Overall, their main focus was on chatting, making spinning yarn merely a secondary task.

"You... you all..."

After losing his temper as usual, Halfdan summoned the supervisor to inquire about the recent revenue and expenditure.

The situation at the Gothenburg Textile Workshop was the worst. The employees were highly inefficient and could only produce the lowest quality woolen cloth, with no dyed cloth or embroidered fabrics. The estimated profit for this month was a mere two pounds.

Finally, Halfdan arrived at the Gothenburg Blacksmith Workshop. A blast of scorching air hit his face, sparks flew in all directions, and the rhythmic clinking of hammers echoed endlessly. Newly forged iron hoes, axes, and spearheads gleamed with a faint light in the shadows.

Compared to the previous two workshops, the working conditions of the four blacksmiths and ten apprentices were the best. Halfdan was just about to praise them when he caught sight of the pig iron ingots they were using out of the corner of his eye, and a surge of anger swelled within him.

"I explicitly said last month to use local iron ingots. Why are you still buying high-priced pig iron ingots from Stirling?"

The blacksmiths responded in unison, "Your Majesty, the pig iron from Stirling is of the best quality. If we try to save money by purchasing inferior pig iron, we will have to spend much more time repeatedly hammering it. That will slow down our forging speed and lower the quality of the ironware."

Halfdan took the account books. The profit from last month was four pounds, which met his expectations, so he left with a gloomy expression.Aside from these three workshops, he had also invested in a shipyard. However, the two knarr ships built at a great cost turned out to be unfit for sailing. Even after the shipwrights improved their craftsmanship, the second batch of two knarr ships was equally subpar. This caused widespread complaints among the buyers and left Halfdan buried in massive debt.

To make matters worse, the buyers were nobles from the Swedish East Coast. Some had funded the purchases individually, while others had partnered up to buy a single ship. This debt could not be dodged; Halfdan had no choice but to slowly pay it off.

Returning to the lord's longhouse, he summoned his chancellor. The projected income for this year was over four hundred pounds. Even with strict budgeting, they could save a maximum of one hundred pounds, which was only equivalent to twenty suits of iron armor.

"It is far too little. As a King, I live less comfortably than an Earl in Francia or Britain."

Compared to Wigg's grand display of bringing out seven thousand suits of iron armor at once during the civil war, Halfdan's expression turned ashen. He felt that he was drifting further and further away from the throne of Britain.

"I am planning to launch a large-scale plunder. Send someone to invite Ubbe, Niels, and Erik Jr."

Schleswig.

Niels was in a similar predicament to Halfdan. Southern Denmark had suffered repeatedly from the ravages of war, making it impossible to earn money from agriculture or handicrafts. He had shifted his focus to the Pomerania region, eventually conquering twelve tribes. However, these West Slavic tribes were incredibly poor, and there was little profit to be squeezed out of them.

Currently, massive quantities of goods from Britain were flooding the markets of Northern Europe and Eastern Europe. Many chieftains had become infatuated with luxuries such as strong liquor, cane sugar, dyed cloth, excellent warhorses, and premium armor, causing their wealth to steadily drain away.

To satisfy their personal desires, they turned to developing new ventures. They sent the young men from their tribes to work in Britain, taking up civil engineering jobs like road construction and building houses. The young men earned wages, and the chieftains collected a handsome intermediary fee.

Faced with Wigg's dumping, Niels abandoned any thoughts of commercial enterprise and gladly traveled to Gothenburg to discuss the plunder plan.

Upon arriving in Gothenburg, Niels saw no sign of Ubbe or Erik Jr., feeling slightly disappointed. "Is it just the two of us?"

Halfdan replied, "Ubbe is busy dealing with internal rebellions, and Erik Jr. prefers doing business, so he declined the invitation to plunder."

As for their targets, they dared not provoke Wigg and Gunnar, those two terrifying figures. The economic conditions in Eastern Europe were abysmal. The only suitable targets left were Flandre, the Agder region in southern Francia, and Iberia.

The latter two targets were far away, so Halfdan and Niels unanimously decided to plunder Flandre. In truth, both men had entertained the thought of raiding Norway, but neither voiced it aloud.

Over the years, Erik Jr. had enfeoffed twenty Barons and hundreds of Knights, doing everything in his power to smuggle horses from Britain and Normandy. If war were to break out, he could muster two hundred cavalrymen, which would be more than enough to crush this loosely organized raiding force composed primarily of light infantry.

In early July, Halfdan and Niels leveraged their prestige to gather four thousand raiders, sailing along the coastline toward their destination.

Midway through the journey, three two-masted brigantines silently appeared to the rear flank of their fleet. Black dragon flags fluttered from the tops of their masts.

From beginning to end, the brigantines made no move to attack, while also rejecting Halfdan's repeated invitations.

Niels advised his temporary ally to stop trying. "That is Wigg's patrol fleet. They are not here to join the plunder, but to keep our fleet under constant surveillance."

Gazing at the massive ships with their excellent maneuverability, as well as the highly intimidating heavy ballistas mounted on their decks, Halfdan let out a sigh of admiration from the perspective of a pirate:

"If I had such ships, I would definitely sail into the Mediterranean Sea to plunder. Back then, Bjorn Ironside made a fortune using oared longships; the profits from a two-masted brigantine would only be greater."

Niels leaned against the bulwark, his tone despondent. "You could try buying them from Wigg. With the ship, ballistas, and military equipment combined, each warship sells for two hundred pounds, though that is the internal price. As the King of Sweden, your purchase price might even surpass three hundred pounds."

In the early hours of July 20th, the raiding fleet arrived at the coast of Flandre and entered the channel of the Scheldt River. Both banks were lined with muddy swamps filled with swaying reeds. Dilapidated fishing boats lay stranded on the exposed mudflats, and five startled wild ducks flapped their wings as they fled into the reed beds.

Before long, the fleet reached a bend in the river. A wooden watchtower stood there, its structure blackened by thick smoke. A dozen corpses were scattered at its base, where a small flock of ravens was currently feasting.

Halfdan looked confused. "Who did this?"

Niels replied, "Probably raiders from Britain. Wigg issued letters of marque, encouraging certain restless Vikings to harass the coast of Flandre."

Taking in the scene, both men felt their spirits plummet. After three months of low-intensity warfare, the maritime trade in Flandre had been completely severed. They likely would not be able to plunder much on this trip.

As they ventured further inland, neatly reclaimed wheat fields and vineyards appeared on both banks. Halfdan left behind a small detachment to raid the area while the main force continued to advance.

At dusk, the fleet arrived at Antwerp. The wooden palisade here had been hastily reinforced, and the figures of local militiamen crowded behind the battlements.

Halfdan drew his longsword and roared, "Charge!"

The longships ran aground in the shallows. The raiders leapt into waist-deep water, holding their round shields high as they waded toward the wall. Over twenty long ladders were hooked over the battlements, and numerous fearless raiders scrambled up them in a frenzy.

Watching the corpses of the raiders plummet to the ground one by one, Niels whispered a reminder, "The sky is getting dark, and time is running out. Should we let your Berserkers make a push?"

Halfdan shook his head. The four hundred armored Berserkers standing behind him were the core strength he relied upon to rule his Kingdom; it was unwise to lose too many of them.

Unable to persuade his temporary ally, Niels ordered his guards to sound the retreat. They would camp in the wilderness for the night and plan to launch another attack the following day.