"I had forgotten about this tradition, to tell you the truth."
Wig slapped his forehead and said to the troops that had arrived this time: "Forty shield-bearers, a hundred archers, and three hundred Vikings. As for the baggage, in addition to provisions, they brought 20,000 feather arrows."
Having written down the information, Wig left the tent and asked his warriors to choose a clean place for their camp. He himself entered the city with a few close associates.
As the forward base of this expedition, Sheffield suffered greatly from its own army. All the shops along the route were closed, and passers-by walked hurriedly, deliberately keeping their distance from the soldiers, as if escaping from the plague.
Feeling the indifferent gazes of the locals, Vig rode his grey horse to the tallest building in the center of the city.
The city's inhabitants were persecuted, and the surrounding villages were plundered from time to time by raids. But what's worse is that during his stay, the lord is obliged to receive the senior leaders of the coalition. After this bribe, these years were in vain. Phew, fortunately I did not choose the southern lands as my domain.
In front of the lord's mansion, Vig revealed his identity and, led by slaves, entered the main hall. He found Ragnar sitting on the main seat, glaring at the Viking warrior.
"Ivar hasn't dealt with this pile of trash yet? What the hell is he doing in Ireland? Forget it, I won't wait. According to reports, the Mercian royal family has received word of our army's gathering. If we delay the mustering any longer, there may be changes."
Ragnar waved away Ivar's messenger and turned his gaze to Vig. "How many men have you brought this time?"
"Four hundred and forty."
Ragnar held back his anger and motioned for Vig to sit down. Including the troops provided by Tyneburg, the coalition numbered 5,300 men. For the first time in his life, he had commanded an army of more than 5,000 men. He was extremely excited and left his seat with a glass of wine.
"They say that during Offa's reign, Mercia was the most powerful country in all of Britain, and had many correspondences with Charlemagne. Such a powerful monarch must have accumulated considerable wealth. Once the army takes Tamworth, I only need the crown, and the rest of the wealth is at your disposal!"
Ragnar's generosity had heated things up. The nobles coveted the treasures left by King Offa, while the middle-ranking members planned to conquer the fief through their military exploits. To the roar of the crowd, today's feast officially began.
The first thing to appear on the table was a whole roasted stag, its hide smeared with honey, pepper, cinnamon, and thyme. It was impaled on a spear and carried into the hall by two burly servants.
Thanks to the spices Bjorn had brought from the Mediterranean, the taste of the roasted stag was an order of magnitude higher than usual, and Vig could not resist trying it a few more times.
Then a servant brought a roasted white swan on a huge silver platter. To be honest, the dish tasted very ordinary, and its presentation was much greater than its edibility.
Then there were meat dishes such as roast suckling pig, beef stew with turnips, smoked salmon, eel pie, and some apples soaked in honey.
"Since Ragnar came to Sheffield, how much does it cost to have a banquet for a week?"
Vig glanced at the dishes on the long table, and then glanced at the Sheffield lord and his wife, who were sitting next to Ragnar. From the forced smiles of both, he concluded that the total cost of the banquet was at least ten pounds of silver.
"In addition to the cost of the banquet, the army is stationed outside the city and usually forages nearby, which inevitably requires the confiscation of food, livestock, and warm clothing from the civilians. This is part of the hidden expenses…"
At this point, a palace guard burst into the hall and interrupted the general feast. "Your Majesty, hundreds of soldiers are involved in the fight, and the camp is about to get out of control."
Ragnar: "What is the reason?"
"In order to compete for a prostitute, Lord Vig and Lord Ulf's soldiers made a bet, which attracted a crowd of onlookers and eventually escalated into a large-scale brawl…"
My men are causing trouble?
Vig put down his half-eaten venison steak, left the hall with a grim expression, and rode to the coalition camp outside the city. His old friend Ulf accompanied him.
As the cold wind bit through him, Ulf complained on his shaking horse: "It's all because of these kids who don't know how to behave. We don't even have enough food."
"These guys really deserve a beating. They've been in camp for less than half a day, and they have so much energy that they're ready to cause me trouble. Maybe I'm giving them too much of a break."
Thanks to their previous friendship, they quickly came to an agreement. When they arrived at the military camp, they didn't go into details. They ordered the shield bearers to flog the soldiers who were causing the trouble, and threw out the prostitute who had started the conflict.
Having settled the dispute, the two lords returned to the city the same way. "I hear you are building a stone castle. How much will it cost?"
Vig: "The total cost of the inner wall and the main castle is over three hundred pounds of silver. Fortunately, there are stone buildings nearby left by the Romans, which significantly reduces the cost - about one hundred and fifty pounds of silver." "
That expensive?" Ulf's voice echoed across the desert. "That is equivalent to three years of Liverpool's entire income. No, this damn place is too poor. When the war is over, I will ask for a better piece of land to be given to me." "
Give it to me? Will you agree, Your Majesty?"
Ulf tensed at Vig's question. "To take Mercia, Your Majesty can only rely on us, the nobles, to govern the people. He has little strength, and he cannot always hold all the land in his hands. In the worst case, I will try to perform even more military feats and make a generous gift to the queen. At any cost, I must get myself a fiefdom."
Hearing this, Vig was confused. Later, Liverpool became the second largest city in Great Britain with excellent natural conditions. It could not be as bad as Ulf described.
"Hey, what is that expression on your face? This place is far from the trade route, and there are swamps everywhere. To save money, I eat eels almost every night, and I am also thinking about developing other industries ... "
In Ulf's story, this man is not reckless and only knows how to chop people. He tried to develop business and attract small traders and artisans so that they would settle. Unfortunately, he was soon displaced by the Manchus, who lived upstream.
The worst part was that the Manchus imported wool, timber and other raw materials from Liverpool, processed them into woollen cloth, farm implements and other goods, and then sold them back to Liverpool for a huge profit, and in return mocked Ulf for his inability to govern the territory. Driven
by anger, Ulf built warships and declared that merchant ships passing through the Mersey Estuary had to pay a transit tax. As ruler of Manchuria, Leonard sent people to York to complain. Under the queen's persuasion, Ragnar declared the transit tax at the Mersey Estuary illegal and immediately abolished it.
At this point, Ulf's efforts to revive industry and trade were declared a failure, and he was left to honestly herd cattle and fish. Vig sighed with emotion:
"I understand your difficulties. The West can only support one city. You cannot compete with Leonard's Manchus. This has nothing to do with your own talents. You really should change your fiefdom."