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Chapter 173 - Chapter 173: Slaves and the New District

When land reclamation was mentioned, Ragnar paused in thought and asked where the labor would come from.

Vig answered:

"Partly from the Norse immigrants, and partly from the slave market.

The cabinet will negotiate with the slave traders—assign slaves to reclamation work and pay their redemption fees over five years.

When the term ends, the cabinet frees them as yeoman farmers."

Yeomen were the backbone of any realm.

They provided taxes and served as soldiers; men with land had loyalty, for they had something to lose.

Compared with foreign mercenaries or slave-soldiers, they were far more reliable.

He gave the classic example:

"In Rome, once the smallholders disappeared, the citizen militia collapsed.

The Empire grew dependent on mercenaries and tribal auxiliaries…

and the result was centuries of turmoil and civil war."

Ragnar stroked his greying beard.

"Slave traders will resent this, I suspect."

Vig replied coolly:

"As long as you approve, the cabinet can handle the rest.

They are merely merchants—what storms can they stir?"

Politics, after all, was the art of dividing pain.

Someone always had to lose.

Vig carried the burdens of the entire British Isles on his shoulders; he had no time to placate every interest group.

Seeing the resolve in his chancellor's eyes, Ragnar conferred quietly with both queens.

At length, they agreed: the plan would be allowed to proceed.

Clutching the royal-sealed proposal, Vig convened the cabinet that same afternoon and assigned tasks.

First, the luxury tax increase—entrusted entirely to Æthelwulf, Minister of the Seas.

"No matter what," Vig warned, "you must bring in at least five hundred pounds this year."

Second, the slave negotiations—dumped on Goodwin, the Minister of Justice.

Goodwin frowned bitterly.

"My lord, your plan benefits the crown and the slaves, yes… but it ignores what the traders want.

Five-year repayment at a total of only one-point-two times redemption value—far too low.

They will call it usury in reverse."

Vig didn't budge.

"That group has plenty of skeletons in their closets.

That is precisely why you, Justice Minister, were chosen for the task.

If they cooperate, very good.

If they refuse… then you may speak with them in other ways."

Next came the unlucky Horst.

Vig asked him to list undeveloped lands in his district.

Horst simply spread his hands.

"My lord, I only just took office. I know nothing yet."

So, left with no choice, Vig spent the following days surveying the outskirts of London himself—splitting the work with his clerks.

Flat grasslands were the easiest to convert into farms.

Wooded or brush-covered land required felling timber—good for sale—then burning scrub, and finally ploughing.

The hardest was the marsh; and near London lay vast tracts of peat bog and reedland that choked the city's growth.

Riding his grey horse up a hill, Vig surveyed the cramped, chaotic sprawl of the old city—and suddenly had a thought.

"London now has eight thousand permanent residents.

In summer and autumn, trade swells the population past ten thousand.

And every October, when the vassals come to court, the poorer knights sleep in the streets.

"If slaves drain the marsh… the reclaimed land could hold houses, shops, workshops, noble estates.

The return on investment far exceeds that of ordinary farmland."

Decision made, he summoned Goodwin and asked about his progress.

Goodwin explained that he had gathered the major slave traders—only to meet unanimous resistance.

Their trump card was obvious:

most of their slaves were kept on rural estates across the realm.

London was merely the market.

If pressured too hard, they would simply relocate their trade elsewhere.

But Goodwin, unusually firm, told them:

"This is the joint decree of His Majesty and the cabinet.

Those who refuse will be barred from doing business not only in Britain—but in Denmark and Sweden as well."

A direct threat to their livelihood.

When Goodwin paused to drink water, Vig narrowed his eyes.

"So… they yielded?"

"More or less," Goodwin sighed.

"We reached an agreement. They will provide one thousand adult males.

The cabinet will redeem them over five years—total repayment at one-point-five times redemption value.

If we need more in the future, they will supply two hundred a year under the same terms."

Finishing his report, he stretched with a long yawn and left the residence.

Goodwin, unlike Pascal or Vig, did not seek perfection.

Seventy or eighty percent success was enough—leave room for all parties, avoid unnecessary wars.

With labor secured, Vig petitioned Ragnar to expand the city.

Permission granted, he marked out a large tract beyond the western wall and oversaw the levelling of land and construction of a wooden palisade.

By May, the wall was almost finished.

Construction teams began building houses, all to a uniform design:

shops in front, living quarters in back.

Each home had two floors and an oak-timber frame.

The walls were filled with wattle-and-daub—woven branches coated with clay, reeds, and lime.

The old thatched roofs were abandoned; all new roofs were tiled, with brick chimneys replacing central hearth pits.

For fire safety, every street and alley in the New District was deliberately widened, with wells spaced at intervals.

As London's governor, Horst occasionally came to inspect the site.

Comparing these neat houses to the chaotic shacks of the old city, he couldn't help but sigh.

"Isn't this… a bit extravagant?"

"Extravagant? You mean the cost?"

Vig, arriving at the scene, explained:

"With identical layouts, each worker specializes in one task.

Construction speed rises sharply.

In many ways, it actually reduces cost."

"How much will this earn us?"

Vig offered a rough estimate:

"In Tyne Town, a house like this sells for six-tenths of a pound.

London has far more people; we can easily charge seven-tenths.

"Subtracting costs… roughly six-tenths profit per house."

That much?

Horst's eyes widened.

If they built two thousand homes… that meant more than twelve hundred pounds of profit.

His gaze drifted toward another zone—

where larger stone-built residences were rising.

Noble estates.

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