novelraw Chapter 364: Emperor
Chapter 364: Emperor
Upon hearing the King's inquiry, the Prime Minister brought out a debt repayment plan.
"Your Majesty, when the war bonds were previously issued, the terms promised repayment of principal with interest, along with a grant of land. I suggest we establish clear pricing. If bondholders waive their monetary returns, they can acquire more land, especially premium real estate such as vineyards and olive groves."
Listening to him finish, Wigg looked thoughtful. If the new plan was successfully promoted, the amount of silver the Crown needed to pay out would drop drastically, estimated to be no more than eighty thousand pounds.
The financial problems had not yet deteriorated to a breaking point. Wigg breathed a sigh of relief, stretching lazily as he returned to the Royal Palace. The interior furnishings were identical to how they had been before, making everything feel as though he had returned to the time just before his departure.
After washing up, Wigg had lunch with his family. The second prince chattered endlessly about his experiences during the war, particularly the Battle of Rick Field. The sight of six thousand cavalrymen charging across the landscape, blotting out the earth, was a scene he would never forget for the rest of his life.
"Six thousand cavalrymen? How much would that cost?" Driven by his merchant instincts, Hrogeir made some mental calculations and concluded that war was the most money-burning endeavor of all.
On the other side of the long table, Breda remained silent. Now advanced in age, she could not accustom herself to life in the Canary Islands and had recently returned to Londinium to live out her retirement.
As a traditional Viking woman, her impression of war remained stuck on the shield wall clashes of many years ago. She didn't understand modern terminology like "hollow squares", "line-to-column conversions", or "spear charges".
After listening for a few minutes and carefully inspecting her son and brother to ensure neither had been injured, Breda lowered her head again, silently eating her bowl of warm fish and oat porridge.
When lunch was over, Wigg settled into the recliner in his office for a nap. Over the years, he found that he enjoyed the best sleep quality right there in his office; the level of comfort far exceeded his bedroom or anywhere else.It wasn't long before Wigg's consciousness began to blur. Just as his thoughts drifted away, he heard the sound of a guard knocking on the door outside.
The visitor seeking an audience was Ricard. He brazenly interrupted the King's slumber to inquire about the upcoming enfeoffment ceremony.
Rubbing his tired eyes, Wigg replied impatiently, "You killed the King of Provence at the Battle of Bull Bridge. You are entitled to an earldom."
This reward met Ricard's expectations. He voiced his thanks repeatedly before raising an additional request.
"I am willing to surrender my current holdings in Scunthorpe and request an additional earldom in West Francia. Ideally, I would like the two earldoms to be adjacent."
Scunthorpe was located south of the River Humber and north of Cambridgeshire. With its flat terrain, it was considered upper-middle tier on the island of Britain. However, if placed in West Francia, it would roughly rank as lower-middle tier, perhaps even bottom tier.
After all these years, Ricard had grown weary of gloomy Britain. He only wanted to move to the habitable and comfortable West Francia to enjoy his retirement.
Facing his vassal's request, Wigg gazed at the map on the wall. After pondering for a moment, he slowly nodded.
Having dismissed the Earl, Wigg instructed his guards not to let anyone else in, and then slept all the way until three in the afternoon.
By then, Gorm's eldest son, the Earl of Suffolk, was waiting anxiously in the reception room. During the war, the Earl had merely dispatched militia forces to fight while he himself hid away in Britain, "recovering from an illness."
Upon being granted an audience, the Earl, knowing full well he lacked the qualifications to receive new fiefs, requested to trade Suffolk for territory in Francia.
Out of respect for the old Prime Minister, Wigg didn't make things difficult for him. "Francia has only been recently conquered, and its order remains unstable. Are you certain you want to abandon your old fief and relocate to a much more dangerous region?"
"They are just a bunch of farmers. I am not afraid of them."
"Very well, as you wish." Uninterested in persuading him further, Wigg agreed to the Earl of Suffolk's request. Before dusk fell, Bracken, the Earl of Liverpool, Pascal Jr., the Earl of Tees, and the Earl of Lancaster arrived at the office one after another. Their requests mirrored those of the previous two; they also intended to exchange their territories.
From the Crown's perspective, although the land quality in Britain was inferior to that of West Francia, it was much easier to control.
With the addition of these five earldoms, the total area of the Crown Lands in Britain would reach fifty percent, granting a crushing advantage over the great nobles on the island. Even if Continental Europe were lost one day, they could simply retreat to the isle of Britain to live and still develop into a maritime hegemon.
A few days later, Imon, the Duke of Dyfflin, sought Wigg out. He requested to hand over Deventer—Ivar's initial fief—in exchange for an earldom in southern Francia. His only condition was that the new territory must produce abundant wine.
In the past, to conquer Ireland, Ivar had nearly bled Deventer dry of its manpower and resources. To this day, the region's population had yet to surpass ten thousand—not even a seventh of the neighboring Tyne County.
Wigg brought out the map and relevant statistical reports, comparing them for a long while before assigning Imon a territory northeast of Bordeaux. Completely satisfied, Imon thanked him profusely and left the office.
After that, no one else asked to relocate their territory. Even though the climate and soil quality of West Francia were top-tier within Continental Europe, the remaining great nobles preferred to stay in their homelands, unwilling to start over in a new fief.
Spending over a week coordinating the various demands, Wigg finalized a generally reasonable enfeoffment plan.
April First, the municipal square of Londinium.
The square was a 180 by 250-meter rectangle. On the north side stood a towering stone temple, while the west side housed the city hall and the Witenagemot assembly venue. The south side featured public baths and a library, and the east side was lined with rows of stone buildings, primarily serving as the headquarters for major merchant guilds.
Early in the morning, a large number of city guards moved into the square, clearing out the vendors' stalls and loiterers. Then, the expeditionary forces gradually marched in from the northern entrance, arranging themselves into neat, orderly square formations.
At eight o'clock in the morning, two thousand Royal Guards arrived, followed by a throng of civilian officials, nobles, clergy, and members of the Witenagemot. Everyone followed instructions and stood in their designated areas. After a period of waiting, the royal carriage rolled into the square.
The carriage halted in front of the stone temple's steps. Draped in his usual black robes, Wigg ascended the steps alone. With tens of thousands of eyes fixated on him, he did not feel the joy and exhilaration he had anticipated. As a farmer hailing from the edge of the world, making his way from Gothenburg in Northern Europe to this very moment had taken him a full thirty years. In times of peace, he busied himself with government affairs and making money; during wars, he charged into battle personally. He had never taken any shortcuts, working countless times harder than Basil of the Eastern Roman Empire.
Since this foundation was earned honorably by his own hands, Wigg felt neither apprehension nor secret delight. Instead, a calm and relieved mindset washed over him as he slowly climbed to the heights.
Regarding the procedures for the coronation ceremony, the Cabinet and Floki had previously engaged in fierce debates.
Some suggested following the standards of the Roman Empire, while Floki and Wind-chaser leaned towards the current procedures of Continental Europe—where the monarch maintained a kneeling posture as the clergy placed the crown upon his head.
Of course, no matter how the crowd argued, the final choice rested with Wigg himself.
Reaching the end of the steps, he did not kneel. Instead, he reached out and picked up the crown directly from the tray held by Floki.
The materials for the crown came from crowns collected from all over: Northumbria, Wessex, Sussex, and the various kings of Francia.
Following instructions, the artisans had taken a portion of gold from each uniquely styled crown and smelted them into this singular diadem. Embedded with numerous gems of varying shapes, its overall weight was quite substantial, yielding a heavy, solid feel in the hands.
He who wishes to wear the crown must bear its weight.
The next moment, he turned around to face the massive, dense crowd below and slowly placed the crown atop his head. Instantly, cheers surged forward like a tidal wave.