According to Pascal's criteria for assessing the territories, York City, Manchunia, Leeds and Sheffield were first-class, Lancaster and the Humber estuary were second-class, and Tyneburgh, Derwent, Tees and other territories were the lowest.
After much arguing, coercing and inciting, the seven nobles finally fought for the result. Leonard got Manchunia, a territory second only to York, as he had wanted, and was the biggest winner.
His old neighbour Ulf was the weakest and could not compete with the others. In the end, he chose the Mersey estuary as his fiefdom. The largest settlement in the territory had a population of only 300 people, and was called Liverpool by the locals.
On the map, the River Mersey flows into the ocean from east to west. The Manchus occupy the upper reaches, and the Liverpool occupy the lower reaches. The two came to Britain from Sweden and eventually became neighbours.
Leonard was so happy when his old enemy was defeated that he laughed so hard he couldn't help it. "I hear the Mersey is rich in eels, Ulf, now you're in for a treat. Ha-ha, why don't you go back to farming and let your subjects concentrate on fishing. I'll take whatever you can get."
Ulf was already in a bad mood after being assigned the worst territory. When he saw Leonard's hateful smile, he couldn't hold back his disappointment any longer.
"F**k," he suddenly knocked the man down and then rushed to wrestle him, like the drunken brawls you see all over the marketplace.
The far-reaching banquet came to an end amid laughter in the hall.
...
Over the next two days, Ragnar asked the surrendered clerks to count the supplies and ordered the craftsmen to cast eleven gold rings. When everything was ready, he gathered everyone in the square in front of the palace, personally slaughtered a bull to sacrifice to the gods, and then performed the title-giving ceremony.
Under the watchful eyes of two thousand Vikings, he lifted the enormous royal ring from the tray and ceremoniously placed it on the ring finger of his right hand. The ring bore the traditional rune of thunder and lightning.
"Ivar," he called to his eldest son from the crowd, "you captured the king's banner at the Battle of Manchuni, twice scaled the city wall, and killed King Elaud with your own hands. Your military exploits are the best in the army. In Odin's name you are called Earl of Derwent (Yar). Are you prepared to swear to Odin that you will never betray your king and that you will dedicate your life to the kingdom?"
"Yes," Ivar dropped to one knee, raised Ragnar's right hand and tenderly kissed the ringed face.
Then Ragnar handed him the ring. The ring was a wolf's head with simple strokes. The design had been chosen by Ivar himself. He seemed to have an inexplicable preference for wolves.
It was Vig's turn. As usual, he knelt down on one knee, swore allegiance in Odin's name and was named Earl of Tyneburg.
The ring Vig had chosen was a dragon, but unfortunately the Nordic barbarians were narrow-minded and called this wingless, five-clawed dragon a snake. After many revisions, he reluctantly agreed to this statement.
The third noble to be canonized was Pascal, followed by Leonard, Ulf, and seven other nobles.
Apparently, Ragnar used the canonization procedure to show the closeness of the relationship. Since the seven nobles had jointly vetoed the qualifications of Bjorn and the others two days earlier, he had secretly kept the matter in mind and vowed to find a way to avenge their insult.
...
After the canonization was completed, the status of the monarch and ministers was determined. Ragnar became King of Northumbria, as he had wanted. After receiving cheers from the crowd, he ordered the people to bring out the boxes of goods and distribute them according to the amount of the contribution.
To win the relationship, Ragnar gave the most money to King Eric, a whopping 500 pounds of silver, followed by "shareholders" like Leonard and Ulf, each with as much as 100 pounds, and as little as 30 pounds.
It was Vig's turn. Since he had invested his entire savings of 20 pounds of silver before setting out, Ragnar kept his promise and gave him a dividend equal to the investment. Including this battle, Vig had a total of 60 pounds of silver.
An earl's title, 60 pounds of silver, a coat of mail, and a sword made of Damascus steel.
These were the possessions Vig had earned through three years of hard work. The next task was to recruit soldiers and head north to take over his territory.
...
After dividing up the spoils, the Viking army entered a three-day carnival. Vig took the opportunity to build relationships with the lower-ranking warriors and tried to persuade them to work for him. With his accumulated reputation, many men agreed to follow him, but it was only a verbal promise with no binding force. Many forgot about it when they sobered up.
"What a bunch of guys, just surviving."
After getting rid of the drunks, Vig walked alone along the city wall. It was autumn, and a small number of farmers on the other side of the river were sowing winter wheat seeds. As the new king, Ragnar had declared protection for the lower-ranking farmers at Pascal's suggestion. They had nothing to loot anyway.
As he approached the northern wall, he saw the bodies of the dead being burned outside the city. Thick smoke mingled with the smell of burning. He covered his mouth and nose and walked quickly. As he passed the tower, he saw two kings on the top floor, admiring the view.
"Vig? Come here, I have a question for you."
Ragnar called him over and asked about his views on the future. "Elaud and his queen were killed, and only the prince escaped. Do you think he can raise an army to fight back?"
Looking at the lush oak forest in the distance, Vig thought for a moment and believed that there would be no large-scale war in the near future.
"Because of his lack of money and equipment, Prince Aella will not be able to ride through the south for long. He may be killed, or he may flee to Mercia for refuge. As for Mercia, the influx of large numbers of refugees into the country will strengthen their national strength in the long run, provided they allocate grain reserves to feed these people and help them open up new farmland. It will take at least two years for the refugees to become self-sufficient." "Well
, two years is quite enough."
Ragnar was quite satisfied with his subordinate's answer. "That is a good idea. The refugees have consumed a lot of Mercia's food reserves, making it impossible for Mercia to sustain an active offensive with an army of many thousands. During this period, I have attracted Vikings from Northern Europe to settle here. There is plenty of arable land here, and the environment is much better than in the cold and barren Northern Europe. No need to worry about not being able to recruit men."
Eric nodded in agreement. "Britain is indeed suitable for agriculture, but in the long run the Viking blood will be drained. In my opinion, it is not worth the loss."
Vig shook his head. "If you have to choose between plundering and settling overseas, it is not worth it. I choose the latter. For decades, the Vikings indulged in sea raids, bringing back a lot of gold and silver, while neglecting agricultural production. As a result, food prices rose, famines were frequent, and the number of raiders increased, agricultural production decreased further, and it entered an irreversible vicious circle."
He couldn't help but miss the old days, stroking the scarred wall with his right hand. "When I was farming in the Gothenburg countryside, I encountered two raids in a month. Most of the raiders were civilians who could not eat. From this point of view, it is better to change the environment and start all over again than to stay in Northern Europe and suffer."