Vikings: Lords of the Ice Sea

Chapter 41 Tribute
In early October, with everything arranged, Vig led his caravan south. Besides paying tribute, he planned to purchase a batch of iron armor to equip the thirty newly recruited shield guards.

Upon arriving in York, the city was not much different from when I left. There were few pedestrians on the streets, and some ruins had not been cleared and had become nests for birds.

"Six months have passed, what exactly has Ragnar been doing?"

Along the way, less than a third of the shops were open, and the most popular of them were undoubtedly the pubs, where the strong smell of alcohol and noise filled the surrounding streets, creating a chaotic atmosphere.

"Wine? Perhaps I could open a distillery to use up the surplus grain and prevent it from getting moldy in the barn."

As they approached the palace, Vig suddenly had a good idea to make money. He secretly noted it down, tidied his appearance slightly, and informed the guards of his purpose.

The captain in charge of the guard was Nils. After exchanging a few pleasantries, he gestured for his men to make way. "Hurry up and go in. Most of the lords have arrived."

Upon entering the main hall, he heard someone reciting the number of offerings.

"Lord Tiss, offer four horses, sixteen oxen, twenty sheep, and five hundred bushels of wheat as tribute."

A quick estimate suggests that Pascal's tribute was roughly the same as his own; both were from the North and neither was doing much better.

When it was Ulf's turn, his face was full of worry, and the list was crumpled in his hand. The thin clerk took it, smoothed it out, and read aloud:
“Lord of Liverpool, ten oxen, ten sheep, five hundred bushels of grain, and twenty barrels,” the voice paused for a moment, and the steward looked up at Ulf with a complicated expression, seemingly trying hard to suppress a laugh.

“Twenty barrels of dried eel.” After he finished reading, he turned to look at Ragnar and Queen Sora on the throne.

Ragnar, wearing a golden crown, remained expressionless. He seemed about to say something, but Hafdan, standing beside him, couldn't help but laugh, and most of the others burst into laughter as well, filling the hall with a joyful atmosphere.

Throughout the entire process, only Vig, Sola, and Pascal maintained a tense expression and did not show any signs of losing their composure.

After laughing for a while, Uber, who was being held on the Queen's lap, clapped and shouted, "Eel Earl, Eel Earl!"

"Shut up!" Ragnar glared at his third son, Hafdan, and fourth son, Ulber, then asked Ulf in a reassuring tone, "What happened?"

Ulf, both embarrassed and angry, replied with a flushed face, "I originally intended to offer you sheep as tribute. Unfortunately, I was unlucky; the flock was attacked by bandits in Wales, and I lost as many as three hundred sheep!"

Ragnar rose from his seat and poured the other man a glass of wine. “Liverpool has poor soil and a sparse population. I understand your difficulties. Remember to deal with these bandits next year and bring me their heads.”

"Thank you for your understanding." Ulf breathed a sigh of relief and silently returned to his original position.

When it was Vig's turn, he handed the list to the unfamiliar Anglo-Saxon official, who gave him a polite smile. "My name is Goodwin, sir."

After Goodwin finished reading the list, Ragnar did a rough calculation: a bolt of ordinary woolen cloth was worth five shillings, twenty bolts of woolen cloth totaled five pounds, and with the livestock and grain, the total value was about ten pounds of silver.

“That’s right. Tyneburg’s population is only more than Deventer and Liverpool, ranking third from the bottom. It’s quite an effort that you were able to put together all this stuff.”

In response to the praise, Vig bowed and said, "I have always been your most loyal servant."

Finally, it was over. Vig walked to the end of the right-hand queue and whispered to Ulf in front of him, "Who else is missing?"

"Leonard and Ivar."

As soon as he finished speaking, Leonard strode into the hall, followed by ten attendants, each carrying a large white swan.

Occupying Manchuni, a prime location second only to York, Leonard offered tribute worth forty pounds of silver, plus ten beautiful white swans, claiming it was a gift for the Queen.

"Thank you for your generosity." Sora smiled for the first time, her tense face showing her great affection for these pure white creatures.

"However, this creature has the ability to fly. Are we going to tether it with a rope or lock it in a cage?"

Leonard smiled and shook his head. "Your Majesty, if some of their feathers are clipped every year during molting, they simply won't be able to fly. I've brought a swan keeper with me; he'll be in charge of these chores from now on."

Having made his mark, Leonard swaggered to the front of the right-hand queue, seemingly to assert his status as the most powerful vassal.

For the next half hour or so, Ragnar, Pascal, and Goodwin discussed matters related to the wine and wool business.

Wine was imported from Frankish countries, while wool was a traditional export of Northumbria. Due to the low productivity of the British textile industry, much of the wool could not be woven into cloth and could only be sold to Flanders (present-day Belgium and the Netherlands) across the sea. Flanders merchants obtained wool and sold the woven fabrics to continental Europe, leading to the prosperity of towns and villages such as Ypres, Bruges, Ghent, and Antwerp, which eventually developed into cities.

"Your Majesty, the royal family's income has dropped significantly due to the war. I suggest imposing import tariffs on wine and raising the export price of wool."

As Chancellor of the Exchequer, Pascal was utterly exasperated by this mess. Every few days, Norse fleets would arrive in York, and out of courtesy, Ragnar would always host lavish banquets for these complete strangers. Initially, the banquets served fine wines, but after repeated persuasion from the Queen, Ragnar reluctantly divided the occasion into tiers: ordinary Vikings were served mead, while only lords and kings were offered wine.

Even so, the national treasury's gold and silver reserves are still shrinking. If no new sources of revenue are found, the country will likely go bankrupt before next year.

After a moment's thought, Ragnar, unwilling to reveal his financial straits in front of his many vassals, casually waved his hand and said, "Alright, do it your way."

After discussing taxes, Ragnar summoned two gentrymen involved in a land dispute to adjudicate their conflict. He then summoned an iron merchant, demanding that he increase the supply. As noon approached and he was preparing to invite everyone to lunch, Ivar, draped in a black cloak, arrived late.

"Oh, all of you gentlemen are here?"

Ivar looked around and noticed that the face to the left of the throne was unfamiliar. "Who is this skinny guy?"

“His name is Goodwin, and he’s my newly recruited administrative officer, assisting Pascal in handling government affairs.” Ragnar gestured for Ivar to hand over the tribute list to Goodwin, but Ivar shrugged and made a helpless expression.

“I’ve run into a little trouble in Ireland and I’m unable to hand over the grain and livestock.”

After saying that, he whistled towards the outside of the hall, summoning in four fair-skinned, slender women. "That's all the tribute for this year. Please forgive me. I'll get my revenge next year and make sure I get my money back with interest."

(End of this chapter)