Building a Viking Empire with Modern Industry-Chapter 178: A Merciless Interest

After the thunderous barrage outside the walls of Tamworth, the West Saxon Ealdorman who led the defense of Mercia was no longer eager to fight Ragnar and the crushing weight of his iron legions.

To continue meant only obliteration. While Ragnar’s steam-belching engines inched closer to the city gates, the Ealdorman was discussing with his remaining Thanes the best path to avoid total ruin.

A group of West Saxon nobles was currently bickering about their options within the Great Hall of Tamworth.

One man, a battle-scarred Thane with a thick beard, slammed his fist on the table.

"We must hold the citadel! We have sworn oaths to King Aethelwulf! If Mercia is to fall back into the hands of these heathens, then we shall make sure the ’Iron Father’ chokes on our blood!"

However, after speaking his passionate speech, the Thane found that not a single person within the room agreed with his opinion.

Instead, he was instantly rebuked by a Bishop, whose face was pale and beads of sweat collected on his forehead.

"Have you gone mad, Godwine? Our shield wall is shattered! We have pulled every levy from the southern shires for this battle, and Ragnar’s hell-fire cannons turned them to mist!

This is a judgment we cannot fight! I suggest we beg for terms; Ragnar is known to value gold over blood. It is the only way to save our souls and our city!"

However, the Thane was fearful of the King’s wrath and pointed out his concerns immediately.

"Do you believe King Aethelwulf will be merciful if we surrender the capital? He will be outraged that we lost the heart of the kingdom! Either way, we face the axe; it is better to die with a sword in hand!"

The two men continued to argue as Ealdorman Aelfric, the acting steward of Mercia, listened to the discord while entranced in deep thought.

He did not know the best course of action, but he knew the sound of those steam whistles haunted his dreams. They had lost too many men.

The "Iron Men" of the Directorate were not warriors; they were a machine that could not be stopped by courage alone.

Eventually, the debate reached the point where the Thane reached for his dagger, and thus Aelfric spoke up about the decision he had made.

"Raise the white banner. When Ragnar arrives, I will barter for the lives of our garrison. I will negotiate safe passage for all West Saxons back to Wessex. The battle is lost, and I will bear the weight of this shame."

Hearing that Aelfric would accept the blame for their monumental loss, the other nobles instantly sighed in relief.

They were much more amicable to the idea of retreating to the safety of the south.

With that said, the meeting was concluded, and the commanders set the task for the few defenders left on the walls to hoist the white cloth of submission.

It took Ragnar a few days to fully secure the perimeter around Tamworth after his victory in the fields. Mainly because he had to instruct his laborers to collect all the spent shell casings and strip the armor from the fallen.

Ragnar would never leave such valuable processed steel to be scavenged by the locals; as such, he spent the time to recover his inventory after every engagement.

More importantly, he ensured his own contractors were given a proper cremation, their ashes sent back to the memorial gardens in City Titan.

After arriving at the main gates of Tamworth, Ragnar was quite shocked to see the white flag flying.

His overwhelming performance on the battlefield and the systematic removal of the enemy leadership had frightened the West Saxons to the point of unconditional submission.

Of course, Ragnar would never allow a simple peace; he would force the West Saxon Ealdorman to sign a heavily weighted contract... a debt obligation that would force severe payments upon the Saxons for their disruption of his trade routes.

If King Aethelwulf did not accept the terms that his Ealdorman signed, it would give Ragnar yet another valid claim to invade Wessex when he was ready.

Of course, it would be a few years before he could pave the roads of Mercia and stabilize the supply chain; he was also expecting some pushback from the Frankish kingdoms in the coming years.

Thus he would not expand his market share further until all internal and external liabilities had been settled.

Ragnar adjusted his top hat and gave an order to General Bjorn as he gazed upon the white flag fluttering against the grey smoke of the battlefield.

"Fetch me my banner of parley. We will force these Saxons to pay a premium for their insolence. It is time to close the deal."

Bjorn grinned, his gold tooth glinting, and gave the order for the troops to fetch the white banner. After doing so, it was brought to Ragnar.

He took it and rode out in his Iron Chariot, accompanied by Bjorn, Thane Leofric, and a squad of elite Grenadiers to ensure his safety.

Seeing that the Director and his executives were riding out, the gates of Tamworth groaned open, and Ealdorman Aelfric rode out with his retinue.

They met in the muddy expanse between Ragnar’s steam-hissing army and the stone walls of the city.

After reaching the middle ground, the two parties planted their standards in the mud. Ealdorman Aelfric was the first to speak his mind upon seeing Ragnar in the flesh.

"I am Ealdorman Aelfric of Mercia. I assume you are the Director, Ragnar?"

Ragnar smiled politely, tapping his cane on the floor of his chariot.

"It is profitable to make your acquaintance."

Ragnar’s tone was polite but cold, devoid of the warrior’s rage but filled with a banker’s calculation. Aelfric swallowed hard and began to declare his intentions.

"As Steward of the West Saxon forces in Tamworth, I hereby declare my intent to yield the city to you, Director Ragnar, under the condition that all West Saxon soldiers be allowed safe passage back to Wessex!"

Ragnar’s lips curled into a predatory smile. He leaned forward, resting his hands on his cane.

"I will allow that... under the condition that a debt is paid for the damages dealt to my infrastructure, and that the Kingdom of Wessex swears by your Cross not to encroach upon my market for at least five years!"

Aelfric’s face scrunched as he heard these terms. He did not have the authority to empty the treasury, but he knew Ragnar’s reputation. If he did not accept the fine, he and his men would be liquidated.

Thus, the most he could do was agree to these terms and hope King Aethelwulf honored them. As such, the man sighed heavily.

"What is the sum you require?"

Hearing the man accept the concept of reparations so easily, Ragnar knew the man was desperate. Ragnar named a figure that was deliberately impossible.

"Fifty thousand pounds of silver. I believe that is a fair price for the coal mines you flooded and the rails you twisted. You can pay it in installments over five years if the King’s treasury is... illiquid."

Ragnar’s whole intent was not to receive payment immediately, but to create a debt trap. He needed a legal justification for his future invasion of Wessex.

Though the war was justification enough, Ragnar preferred to operate within the bounds of his own twisted legal system. He wanted to look like a creditor collecting a due, not a barbarian raider.

When the Ealdorman heard such an unreasonable demand, his eyes widened. There was no way Wessex could afford such a sum without melting down every chalice in the kingdom.

"At most, we can afford five thousand! Fifty is madness!"

Ragnar scoffed at the man’s haggling. He pointed his cane at the smoking chimneys of his siege engines behind him.

"You have disrupted the production of the Midlands and wasted my time. Time is gold, Ealdorman. You will either agree to my ledger, or I will level this city and every keep your King still holds, terminating every contract I find!"

Ragnar’s voice had dropped to a mechanical growl, frightening the Ealdorman. There were still thousands of civilians in Tamworth.

Thus, after careful consideration, Aelfric nodded his head and slumped in his saddle.

"Alright. Under these terms, I, Ealdorman Aelfric, yield the city to you."

Both men knew in their hearts that this debt would likely never be fully paid and that war would eventually break out again.

But this agreement secured the Saxons’ safety for now and bought Ragnar the time he needed to build his railways.

"Very well," Ragnar said, signaling to his scribe, who produced a pre-written contract.

"You have three days to vacate the premises. If any armed Saxon remains in Mercia after that, I will consider it a breach of contract, and the penalty clauses will be... severe."

Aelfric signed the parchment with a shaking hand.

"I promise you; there will be no West Saxons remaining within Mercia by the deadline."

After hearing this, Ragnar smiled, rolling up the scroll.

"Excellent. Pleasure doing business with you. Now, remove yourself from my property."

As Ragnar turned his chariot back toward his lines, Aelfric wiped the sweat from his brow. It was only after the "Iron Father" had departed that Aelfric voiced his terror to his Bishop.

"We must leave. Immediately. I want every soldier out of here before he recalculates the interest."

With those words, the West Saxons began to prepare for a full retreat.

Ragnar and his Directorate had been victorious, and the young Director had fulfilled his promise to close the deal before the quarter ended.

As Ragnar rode back to his lines, General Bjorn rode up beside him, grinning.

"Fifty thousand pounds?! They’ll never pay that, Director."

Ragnar chuckled, the sound mixing with the hiss of steam.

"I know, Bjorn. And when they default... we foreclose on the entire kingdom."

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N/A: Please ignore the text below as it’s a duplicated error that I couldn’t delete. See you in the next Chapter...

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Though the merger would not be over... after all, the fight for the Midlands was just one of many ongoinflicts in the greater war for the British Isles.

During thi.m