novelraw Chapter 95: Treaty
Chapter 95: Treaty
Ch 95: Treaty
West Francia’s soil is fertile, and its climate is mild. Its natural conditions far surpass other European countries. As long as peace can be achieved, “Bald” Charles will not begrudge a little wealth.
Overhearing their conversation, Aella remained expressionless. Although he intensely hated the Vikings outside the city, as a freeloading exiled noble, he was not qualified to question his master’s decision and could only continue to lie low and wait for an opportunity.
Upon learning that Lambert was about to leave the city, a group of noblewomen, somehow receiving the news, gathered outside his house, begging him to go to the prisoner of war camp to help find out information.
Realizing that these women’s emotions were on the verge of collapse, Lambert straightened his attitude, putting on a righteous air.
“Ladies, I will make my stance clear to Ragnar, and have him treat the captured nobles with dignity.”
Pushing through the crowd, Lambert rode to the South Bank Bridgehead and walked to the siege camp.
Unexpectedly, the Vikings guarding the camp entrance did not make things difficult for him, seemingly not opposed to negotiations with the Franks.
After waiting for ten minutes or so, Lambert followed the guards to the most prominent main tent in the camp. Inside, a middle-aged man wearing a crown was reading a book, with a young translator standing beside him.
The translator conveyed his master’s words in Latin: “Please sit.” After sitting down, Lambert straightened his back and solemnly relayed “Bald” Charles’s peace negotiation request: withdrawal of troops and no mutual invasion for five years.
Shortly after, the translator relayed Ragnar’s conditions: thirty thousand pounds of silver and a thousand warhorses; the siege would only stop if these conditions were met.
“Your Majesty, we don’t have that much money.”
Lambert squeezed out a pitiful expression. “Even if you attack Paris without regard for casualties, you wouldn’t be able to plunder that vast wealth. Moreover, assuming Paris falls and the king dies, nobles from various places would elect a new king to continue fighting. Your army wouldn’t be able to support a protracted war of attrition and would ultimately have to withdraw to Britain.”
According to the information he had gathered, Ragnar captured Winchester last year, chose to spare Æthelwolf, and allowed him to continue ruling. He was a clear-headed Norman chieftain,
and as long as nothing went wrong, there was at least a 70% chance of success in this peace negotiation.
At noon, the first round of negotiations ended. The price gap between the two sides was too large, and Lambert’s authority was insufficient, so he could only bid farewell and return to the city.
Before leaving, he was allowed to visit the prisoner of war camp in the South. This was originally a village. The Vikings ordered the prisoners to build houses and build fortifications around them. Management was very strict, but the prisoners looked healthy and didn’t seem to be mistreated.
After taking a stroll, Lambert proposed improving the living conditions of the noble prisoners of war, only to receive a glare from the Guard Captain. “Hey, being able to drink porridge is good enough. Don’t push it. Do you think Ragnar cares about this trivial matter?”
“Of course he does, because it involves his interests, or rather, the interests of the entire Viking army.”
Next, Lambert explained Frankish traditions to the Guard Captain:
Nobles, after being captured, should be treated with dignity and have the right to demand ransom for their release, with the ransom equivalent to 2-4 years’ income.
（Note: In 1193, Richard I, King of England, “Richard the Lionheart,” was captured and paid one hundred and fifty thousand marks as ransom to the Holy Roman Empire, equivalent to 34 tons of silver, or ninety-seven thousand pounds at the time! This consumed three years of royal fiscal revenue.）
“The peace negotiation is a done deal. Remember this; if you accidentally kill a noble, you common soldiers can’t afford the consequences.”
“Really? Don’t bluff me.” Threatened, the Guard Captain panicked. Recently, someone had indeed accidentally killed an earl’s nephew, and two other nobles had died from serious injuries.
This was trouble.
Once prisoners and silver were involved, the high-ranking officers would never tolerate it. The Guard Captain, feigning composure, sent the envoy away and pondered alone in the tree shade for a long time. Helpless, he found Ragnar and confessed the truth.
On the other side, Lambert returned to Île de la Cité and truthfully relayed the Normans’ conditions.
“Your Majesty, Ragnar is not interested in our lands; he’s just aiming for a big payout, demanding thirty thousand pounds of silver and a thousand warhorses.”
Pfft!
Charles sprayed the red wine out of his mouth. “That’s it? Those Norman paupers are so naive. For this paltry sum, they’re disturbing my peace.”
Taking the silk handkerchief offered by the servant girl, he wiped his mouth haphazardly and casually threw it aside.
“Go to the city again tomorrow. Don’t agree too readily. Remember to bargain with them first.”
“Understood.”
The next day, Lambert went to Ragnar’s tent again, arguing his case, insisting that the royal family could only offer ten thousand pounds of silver and five hundred horses. As for the ransom for the various nobles, they could probably raise six or seven thousand pounds and several hundred warhorses.
Looking at the red-faced Frankish dwarf, Ragnar frowned. Could it be that “Bald” Charles’s situation was so difficult that he couldn’t even afford this amount of money?
He had the guards take the envoy aside and summoned the high-ranking officers for a meeting.
Ten minutes later, Ragnar looked at the sparse figures and asked incredulously, “Where are the others?”
“Niels and Orm are hunting nearby, Ivar is leading a team to intercept and kill the surrounding reinforcements, Theodulf is praying at a church in some countryside, Gunnar is out training horses, and Vig is scouting the terrain in a forest twenty miles southeast.”
In short, two-thirds of the high-ranking officers were goofing off. Ragnar was completely speechless. After discussing with the remaining few, he decided to raise the amount to twenty thousand pounds of silver and fifteen hundred warhorses.
The oak forest southeast of Paris.
Led by a local resident, Vig arrived at a circular open space and looked at the clear spring: “This is Fontainebleau（ Fontainebleau）?”
After stirring the water a few times, he didn’t find anything unusual. He sighed and took out paper and pen to sketch the scenery.
“Sigh, a wasted trip. It was a complete waste of time.”
Ending this extremely disappointing journey, Vig returned to the siege camp and learned the contents of the agreement from Ragnar. “Your Majesty, why didn’t you ask for more?”
Ragnar threw over a letter with messy handwriting. Vig scanned it from beginning to end. “Halfdan was defeated? It’s simply…”
Considering that Halfdan was Ragnar’s son, Vig held back some mocking remarks. “Oh well, there are still a lot of things to deal with in the territory, so it’s better to go back early.”
To be honest, achieving this huge wealth in less than two months of warfare was far more cost-effective than the wars in Mercia and Wessex last year, especially the fifteen hundred Frankish warhorses. Based on his recent achievements, he could get at least a hundred.
Silently calculating his share of the spoils of war, Vig bowed and took his leave, preparing to go back and write the《 Frankish War Chronicles》.
At this time, Ragnar suddenly called out to him, “Under the walls of Paris, we annihilated the main force of West Francia in one battle. This achievement is enough to be passed down to posterity. I intend to promote you to Duke. How about Wales?”
In the presence of Pascal and other nobles, Vig subconsciously refused. “I’m still more used to the climate of the North. It just so happens that the Picts frequently plunder my village, and I intend to conquer the Northern Border and completely eliminate the scourge.”
After Vig finished speaking, Ragnar readily agreed to his request, promoting him to Duke of Tyne, nominally governing the entire Northern Border.
The Northern Border has rugged terrain and a relatively cold climate, and the local Picts are extremely fierce. Getting rid of him with such a blank title was simply too cost-effective.
After ennobling Vig, Ragnar promoted Ivar to Duke of Dublin, nominally governing the whole of Ireland.
Ivar readily accepted this. In his view, there wasn’t much difference between a Duke and an Earl. The locals wouldn’t be loyal to him because of a title; the battles would still need to be fought.
After the investiture ceremony, Ivar secretly muttered to himself:
“Spending too much time with Sola, Pascal, and Goodwin, the old man is getting smarter and smarter. I really don’t know what new tricks he will come up with in the future?”
In the following days, Vig stayed in his tent writing the《 Frankish War Chronicles》. When he finished the concluding part, he suddenly heard his subordinate report that a Viking fleet had arrived downstream, flying King Eric’s Sword and Axe Banner.