novelraw Chapter 407: Wigg [END]
Chapter 407: Wigg [END]
In December 875 AD, Fridleif and Ineu formally signed a peace treaty.
Ineu was not currently considering transitioning to a settled lifestyle, and Fridleif did not force him. Once the Jute Khanate realized the advantages of agriculture, they would sooner or later make that choice.
With this, the empire established its eastern border. East of the Visegrád Mountains lay eight semi-nomadic, semi-settled vassal tribes, serving as the first line of defense.
The Visegrád Mountains themselves formed the second line of defense. Several fortresses controlled the mountain passes, garrisoned by the Pannonian border defense forces.
On the plains to the west of the mountains, previously constructed military camps were granted as fiefs to minor nobles, acting as the third line of defense.
The Crown Prince ordered construction crews to build stone keeps within these camps, boasting stone city walls twenty-three feet high and thirteen feet thick. If the nomads managed to breach the first two defensive lines, these minor nobles would inevitably defend their inner keeps to the last man to protect their own properties.
West of the third line of defense lay the true core region of Pannonia: Brno and Vindobona (Vienna).
Having done all this, Fridleif felt he had done everything humanly possible.
Before the return journey, Fridleif drafted a list of personnel who had performed meritorious service. Although Greger was the nominal King of Pannonia, he had not yet been crowned. The power of enfeoffment remained with the Emperor; as long as this list was submitted, there was a ninety percent chance it would be approved.
At that moment, Leif delivered a report and was surprised to find his own name on the list."Are you sure you want to give me an earldom?"
Fridleif nodded. "Pannonia has plenty of land; giving away a little more does not matter. The other mid-to-high-ranking military officers will get their share as well, with earldoms and baronies aplenty. Father always said the mountains of Central Europe are rich in mineral veins. If you are lucky, you might even discover a coal, iron, or copper mine within your borders."
Leif, already a man of substantial wealth, paid little attention to the details of his new territory. Between the Canary Islands, his lands in West Francia, and this new domain in Pannonia, he now held a total of three earldoms. It was simply too much to manage personally. He would have to delegate oversight to his lower-ranking vassals, meaning he would not collect much profit from it anyway.
In April 876 AD, the three lines of defense were largely completed. Leaving a portion of his forces to garrison the border, Fridleif led the main army on the journey back home.
After a year away, East Francia had not changed much. Dense forests still blanketed both banks of the Elbe River, broken only occasionally by a settlement where the banner of some noble family fluttered atop a watchtower.
The inland river fleet sailed downstream, eventually arriving at Hamburg on the lower reaches of the Elbe River. Here, the expeditionary army transferred to seafaring ships before advancing westward along the coastline.
In early May, the fleet reached Calais. During their brief stopover, the Crown Prince inquired with the sheriff about the local situation.
Given its crucial location, the county of Calais was under the strict supervision of the Cabinet. As a result, its public order was far better than that of the other nineteen counties.
Since the previous year, there had been almost no rebellions throughout the county. The attitude of the populace had gradually shifted from hostility to indifference. In another ten years, it could reach the same level of stability as the British mainland.
Having handled state affairs for a long time, the Crown Prince understood that this was a long and arduous task. He carefully reviewed the reports from the subordinate towns, finding that they generally met the required standards.
On May 10th, the fleet returned to the docks of the River Thames. The Cabinet welcomed the expeditionary army with a grand triumph.
A golden carriage carried the Crown Prince through the recently completed Triumphal Arch. The main body of the structure was made of white marble, crowned with a bronze statue of the Emperor driving a chariot. The exterior was covered in relief sculptures documenting every war the Emperor had fought.
Behind the golden carriage marched ranks of soldiers, followed by various spoils of war and Borsho's wives, concubines, and children. According to the decision of the Emperor and the Cabinet, they would be housed in a specific temple from now on. If the new Khan ever violated the treaty, the Viking Empire would prop up one of these heirs to spark a new round of civil war within the khanate.
Following this, the golden carriage paraded around the main avenues of the city. Londinium's urban area was expanding rapidly. With a permanent population of over eighty thousand that was still growing, it was now the second-largest city in Europe, second only to Constantinople.
After the ceremony ended, the Crown Prince returned to the imperial palace and, unsurprisingly, was summoned to the study.
Wigg briefly asked about the details of the final battle and was very satisfied with how his eldest son and nephew had handled the situation.
"When leading troops into battle, the greatest taboo is overestimating your own command abilities. The fact that you and Leif managed to maintain your rationality is more than enough. The military strength of the empire surpasses all other nations. As long as you act prudently, the enemy will never be able to turn the tables."
He continued to question him. "What is your vision for the empire over the next twenty years?"
Fridleif's expression turned solemn. He walked over to the window, thought for a long time, and finally gave his assessment. "Maintain peace. Focus on developing the British mainland and the twenty counties along the Southern Channel Coast.
"Our weakness is that our core population is too small to sustain so much territory. Take this recent campaign, for example. The Pannonian plains are perfect for farming. If we could have relocated millions of Viking citizens there, we would not have needed to negotiate with the Magyars at all; we could have pushed straight to the edge of the Carpathian Mountains in one fell swoop." Wigg asked, "So, twenty years of recuperation to let the native population grow. And then?"
Fridleif replied, "If the enemy experiences internal turmoil or faces invasion from other factions, the empire can consider expanding. We will attack with an overwhelming numerical advantage, leaving the opposition no room to resist. Then, we can grant fiefs to nobles and indirectly rule the new territories."
This answer was entirely within Wigg's expectations. Nowadays, his energy was steadily declining. Since the Crown Prince had proven himself capable, Wigg could entrust the majority of state affairs to him.
After more than thirty years of tireless toil, Wigg was weary of this heavy burden. He slipped into a state of seclusion, spending most of his time fishing and organizing his notes, rarely making public appearances on ordinary days.
One day, acting on a sudden whim, Wigg boarded a ship and returned to his hometown.
At the Gothenburg docks, the Emperor received a rapturous welcome from the residents. Unseen for many years, the place had blossomed into a prosperous and wealthy coastal town. Public bathhouses, arenas, hospitals, temples, and sturdy stone city walls it had everything one could ask for.
Halfdan Whiteshirt rushed over upon hearing the news. In recent years, he had engaged in the furs and amber trade, spending his days drinking and socializing with merchants. The fierce aura he once carried had vanished completely over the long passage of time. "Your Majesty, why did you not send word in advance? We have prepared absolutely nothing..."
"There is no need. Go back to your business; I just want to take a casual stroll."
Riding Grey Wind the Fourth, Wigg led a squad of the Royal Guard out of Gothenburg. He gazed at the farmlands and pastures on either side, lost in thought for a long time before hesitantly choosing a direction. "It should be this way."
Following a path that was both familiar and strange, Wigg returned to the fjord where he used to live. To his surprise, a brand-new, towering building now stood on the very spot.
'Did I come to the wrong place?'
Wigg sought out a nearby temple and knocked gently on the door. Soon, a shaman stepped out. Glancing at the unfamiliar old man and the squad of armored guards following behind him, the shaman guessed that this person was some noble who had come specifically to visit the Emperor's former residence.
The shaman took the initiative to speak. "That farmhouse over there is His Majesty's old home. The original one collapsed long ago, so the temple spent money to rebuild it. Oh, and there are also many runic stones high up on the cliff, right over there."
After saying this, the shaman wore an expectant expression. Wigg knew exactly what he wanted and motioned for his guards to donate some gold and silver coins.
"My lord, thank you for your generosity. May you have a pleasant journey." The shaman dropped the coins into the donation box. Interestingly enough, the portrait stamped on the front of the gold coin bore a slight resemblance to the noble who had just stood before him. Perhaps his eyes were playing tricks on him.
Leaving the temple, Wigg carefully inspected the building. Whether it was the exterior design or the internal furnishings, it clearly exceeded the specifications of a simple farmhouse. It was fundamentally not the dwelling he had lived in back then. Disappointed, Wigg walked away.
High up on the cliff stood numerous runic stones. The carvings on them seemed to depict mythological tales. Wigg examined them repeatedly. Suddenly, he noticed a young shepherd boy down the hill and had his guards bring the child over.
"Do these patterns hold any special meaning?"
The child, entirely accustomed to explaining things to visitors, held out his hand to ask for a silver coin before answering fluently, "The runic stones record the tales of the Emperor's youth. Take this one, for example: Under the guidance of Odin, he journeyed to a lake near Uppsala, where a Valkyrie presented him with a fated weapon the Dragon's Breath Sword. Wielding this divine artifact, the young Emperor returned to his hometown and slew the cruel and tyrannical hydra. Thus, his legendary tale began."
'A divine artifact?'
Wigg was deeply shocked. He looked down at the scabbard sword hanging by his waist, overcome by an inexplicable sense of absurdity. "Do you truly believe all this?"
The child replied, "Of course. When His Majesty slew the hydra, my grandfather was there. He passed down a scale to my father, which is said to have fallen off the beast itself."
Wigg was left completely speechless. He abandoned the runic stones and continued strolling nearby. By chance, he stumbled upon a grave. Carved into the tombstone were the words: "Duke of Gascony, Former Fleet Admiral Joren."
Wigg suddenly remembered Joren had passed away from illness just last year. He reminisced about their farming days from so long ago, but those memories felt terribly hazy, making it difficult to distinguish specific times and places.
'It seems I really have grown old.'
The next place he visited was Ragnar's grave. Before his death, Ragnar had requested that his coffin be relocated back to Gothenburg so he could be buried alongside Lagertha.
The tomb was situated in a remote location. A raven perched quietly atop the tombstone. The cold wind howled, and wild grass grew in thick tangles. Down below the cliff, the seawater rhythmically crashed against the reefs. Time seemed to freeze in this single moment, as if nothing had ever changed.
Wigg stood there for a long time before letting out a soft sigh. "This is fine, too. At least it is peaceful and free."
Upon returning to Londinium, Wigg resumed his secluded life. Day by day, he gradually faded from the public eye. That was until one evening, when a manor servant went down to the riverbank and found the Emperor fast asleep in his lounge chair, impossible to wake no matter how much he tried. The servant frantically relayed the news to the others. Soon, the news spread throughout Londinium, across Britain, and then across the entire empire...
An era had come to an end.