novelraw Chapter 290: The Exchange
Chapter 290: The Exchange
Listening to the chatter of the crowd, Adrien finally figured out what had happened. It seemed that a management failure at the Earl of Mancunium's textile workshop had caused the shareholders to suffer heavy losses.
The master and servant were deeply shocked by this revelation. "An Earl can actually lose money doing business?"
They squeezed their way into the exchange and found numerous blackboards hanging on the walls, listing various kinds of information. Dozens of brokers wearing badges on their chests hurried about, clutching account books to record trading intentions. Occasionally, they would shout at the top of their lungs to call out prices for their clients, looking incredibly busy.
Guided by Adrien's introductions, Chawatu focused his gaze on those blackboards. Each board displayed the current stock prices of listed companies, with the most prominent one belonging to the West Sea Fur Company.
In recent years, the West Sea Fur Company had established partnerships with almost all the tribes in Greenland. They shipped a steady stream of furs, whale oil, and whalebone to Britain, boasting an annual profit of over one thousand eight hundred pounds and a total market valuation exceeding twenty-six thousand pounds.
Next in line were the Canary Sugarcane Company and Harry's Wool Emporium. Shifting his gaze to the blackboard on the right, Chawatu also spotted the Elis Merchant Group, which belonged to his son-in-law, Hrogeir.
The shelves in the corner of the exchange held numerous pamphlets. Adrien picked up the one on top; it was Hrogeir's promotional material for his merchant group and the Grey Pigeon Islands, detailing the company's current profit model and dividend ratios.
After Adrien finished explaining all the pamphlets, Chawatu sighed in awe. "Are these the most profitable businesses in the kingdom?"
Adrien shook his head. "No, the royal family's industries have not issued stock. That includes the iron mines, breweries, shipyards, and paper mills. Some wealthy merchants once tried to invest, but they were firmly rejected. The King does not lack that bit of capital, nor is he willing to be constrained by shareholders."
Suddenly, the clamor in the hall intensified. Adrien noticed that the stock price of the Earl of Mancunium's workshop was still plummeting. An enraged merchant climbed onto a counter, his face flushed as he delivered a heated speech.The next moment, he led the furious crowd toward the west side of the city, marching all the way to the Earl's upscale mansion.
Most of the time, Leonard resided in his fiefdom of Mancunium, leaving this mansion vacant. One emotionally agitated merchant scaled the wall into the courtyard and threw open the main gates from the inside.
"Take back our losses!"
To Adrien's absolute astonishment, the merchants stormed into Leonard's mansion. They brutally beat the two servants on guard and looted the silver tableware, expensive carpets, high-end clothing, and furniture inside. Within moments, the grand estate was stripped clean.
Right on the heels of the chaos, a cacophony of whistles echoed from the nearby blocks. Knowing the situation was turning dire, Adrien grabbed the Baron and dragged him away from the riotous scene, only to be blocked by the city guards at an intersection.
"My master is a Baron under the Earl of Canary. Here is his proof of identity!"
By flaunting the title of Baron, Adrien and Chawatu managed to remain uninvolved, but the others were not so lucky.
Since the incident had escalated to a blatant attack on an Earl's mansion, Wigg personally intervened, ordering the arrest of those involved to await trial.
Once the matter was handled, he stretched lazily and headed to the dining room. During the meal, Fridleif showed great interest in the afternoon's disturbance, repeatedly asking about the details.
Wigg speared a piece of shellfish with his fork. "You think there is something fishy about this? You guessed right. According to our intelligence network's deductions, Leonard's textile workshop has serious issues. That bastard deliberately leaked good news to drive up the stock price, then secretly sold off his own shares for profit. Haha, I never expected him to be so creative."
Upon learning the details, Fridleif did some quick mental math and realized the Earl must have made at least five hundred pounds. "The profit is too high, no wonder he broke the rules. This will definitely invite copycats in the future. How do you plan to handle it?" Wigg set down his silver knife and fork, detailing his thoughts.
"In the future, we will establish a securities regulatory commission to audit company account books and prevent this kind of mess from happening again. Furthermore, the exchange will raise its barriers to entry. Only wealthy merchants or gentry with substantial assets will be allowed to trade, which will minimize the collateral damage."
As for the incident itself, the few men who led the charge on the Earl's mansion would be sentenced to exile, while the rest would be required to pay a fine. Regarding the textile workshop's fraudulent accounts, Wigg dispatched the Minister of Justice, Om, to Mancunium to investigate immediately.
"Om?"
As time passed, Fridleif had heard that this Earl's temperament had grown increasingly stern, making him almost a completely different person from who he used to be. "With him stepping in personally, Leonard is in deep trouble this time."
Wigg replied, "Not necessarily. The nominal owner of the textile workshop is Leonard's steward. Assuming Leonard is willing to compensate for the losses, this matter will just blow over without directly implicating him. But if he fails to read the room and crosses the line of my tolerance, then things will get very complicated."
After discussing the matter at length, Wigg noticed his eldest son's keen interest, so he arranged for him to temporarily shadow Om.
Suddenly, Heregyth glanced at the father and son duo. She quickly lowered her head, continuing to peel shrimp shells for her youngest son.
Fridleif could guess what she was thinking.
"Are you worried that the Earl of Mancunium might try to harm me? Uh, I don't think it will come to that. To commoners, the nature of this case is severe, but great nobles hold a special status. No matter how serious it gets, it won't affect their titles. At most, he'll be summoned for a face-to-face reprimand and forced to pay a fine."
Wigg speared another piece of shellfish. "The Fourth Infantry Regiment is currently constructing permanent barracks near Mancunium. I will also dispatch a squad of the Royal Guard for your protection. That should be more than enough."
The next day, Fridleif went to the Army Academy and requested a twenty-day leave of absence. He then packed his bags, picked out a docile grey mare from the stable, and met up with Earl Om at the north gate at eight o'clock in the morning.
From his appearance, Om was a towering figure, his massive frame dwarfing the rest of the former Hunting Party. He looked like a walking brown bear. It was just a pity that his personality was overly rigid and his command ability fell far short of Ivar, Wigg, and Gunnar. Because he had never qualified to lead an army on his own, he lacked any boast-worthy military achievements and his reputation remained relatively unknown.
However, as the Minister of Justice, that rigid personality actually proved to be a rare advantage. Based on Fridleif's observations, his father was extremely satisfied with Om's work. Barring any unforeseen circumstances, Om would hold this position indefinitely.
The journey from Londinium to Mancunium was roughly two hundred miles. The ancient Roman road connecting the two cities had been mostly repaired. The group traveled on horseback and expected to arrive in five days.
Along the way, Fridleif happened to spot a carriage drawn by two horses, its cabin bearing the signboard of a certain company.
During a rest break, Fridleif sought out the driver for information. He learned that with the Londinium–Mancunium road nearing completion, the carriage company planned to launch a passenger route between the two cities. This particular trip was a trial run, estimated to take ten days.
As the conversation ended, Fridleif felt slightly disappointed. The carriage company's ticket prices were far too high, meaning they could only serve the gentry, merchants, and the nobility.
Suddenly, he thought of the horse-drawn trams in Londinium. 'If wooden rails were laid between the two cities, it would drastically increase transport capacity and slash travel times. It's just that the initial investment is too immense. I doubt Father would agree to it.'