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Chapter 368 - Chapter 368: The King of Livonia

In mid-May, at Londinium, Vig summoned his second son, Prince Frey, to his office.

"You've come of age," Vig said. "You have enough experience and ability to govern your own territory now. You have two choices before you: Nantes or Livonia. What do you think?"

Frey did not answer immediately.

Instead, he stood staring at the map hanging on the wall.

Nantes possessed excellent natural conditions and sat at the mouth of the Loire River, making it ideal for both agriculture and commerce.

However, its future growth was limited.

To the north lay crown lands, while dukes and counts surrounded it to the east and south.

Livonia, by contrast, was vast.

No major powers threatened it.

Its future potential was enormous.

The downside was obvious: development would require decades of arduous frontier work.

For at least three or four generations, the returns from Livonia would likely remain inferior to those of Nantes.

At that moment, Vig added another condition.

"Livonia is covered in forests and the environment is harsh. If you choose Livonia, I'll grant you a subsidy of three thousand pounds annually for the next fifteen years. That should be enough to establish yourself there and expand outward."

Three thousand pounds?

That was roughly six times the annual income of the King of Sweden.

The amount was staggering.

Frey's concerns immediately vanished.

With that level of funding, he could maintain an army of two thousand men, crush any disobedient native tribes, and organize settlers to clear forests and reclaim farmland.

"Fine," he said. "If you're willing to give me two thousand sets of captured armor as well, I'll choose Livonia."

Seeing his son's excitement, Vig nodded slowly.

"Forested regions are ideal places for ambushes. I'll assign you a group of experienced officers and NCOs. Ennoble them as minor nobles and use them as the backbone for two mountain infantry battalions."

He paused before adding:

"And remember to stay behind the lines when fighting."

"I know."

Frey grinned.

"I followed you through Francia for two and a half years. What could some Eastern European barbarians possibly do to scare me?"

As a second son, Frey had waited years for this opportunity.

Now that it had finally arrived, he immediately began contacting old classmates from his youth.

The eldest sons of nobles and wealthy merchants politely declined.

They were destined to inherit family estates and businesses.

There was no need to risk their lives in the forests of Eastern Europe.

Second sons and bastards, however, were thrilled.

Most would eventually be pushed aside by their elder brothers anyway.

Livonia offered opportunity.

The region was vast and sparsely populated.

A few years of service under the Second Prince might eventually earn them lands of their own.

After more than a month of preparation, Frey's fleet finally departed Londinium.

The expedition included:

His new wife

Fifty experienced officers and NCOs

Twenty-five volunteer second sons and bastards

One hundred clergy who could also serve as physicians, scribes, and teachers

Three hundred soldiers

More than one hundred servants

Their destination was Viljanka.

After four years of development, the settlement had grown to two thousand inhabitants and was suitable to serve as the capital of Livonia.

At the docks, Heligif held her youngest son, Grik, and wept uncontrollably.

Yet she did not try to stop Frey.

From a political standpoint, it was far better for grown princes to govern distant territories than to remain in the imperial capital.

Before long, the fleet's sails vanished beyond the Thames estuary.

Vig watched quietly before turning away.

According to his memories, the eastern and southern coasts of the Baltic would eventually become major grain-exporting regions during the late medieval era.

The Hanseatic League would purchase rye and wheat there and ship them to industrial centers in Britain and the Low Countries.

Several decades—or perhaps a century—from now, when Britannia eventually began industrializing, Livonia would be able to supply agricultural products while Britain supplied manufactured goods.

The two regions would complement each other perfectly.

After more than twenty days at sea, the fleet arrived safely at Viljanka.

Once the three-masted ships had docked, the naval colonel responsible for escort duty produced an imperial decree and read it aloud to the garrison.

From that moment onward, Viljanka officially became the domain of the King of Livonia.

The new king spent time touring the settlement.

Besides the standard facilities found in imperial frontier towns—

A post office

A temple

A hospital

there was also a newly completed school that had not yet opened.

"It's about the same as one of Londinium's smaller towns."

That was his first impression.

He then climbed the wooden palisade alongside the local garrison.

Outside stretched open wheat fields.

Beyond them stood endless primeval forests.

Groups of settlers were clearing trees and burning brush.

Columns of black smoke rose into the sky and lingered there for hours.

The next day, the king summoned nearby tribal chiefs.

Twenty-five accepted the invitation.

Frey greeted them warmly and presented gifts of fine clothing, wine, and sugar.

After the gathering ended, he reviewed the attendance roster.

Fifteen tribes had refused to appear.

He nodded with satisfaction.

"Excellent. That gives me an excuse to deal with them."

Following his father's advice, he dispatched officers to Scandinavia to recruit soldiers.

"At least one thousand men. Form two mountain infantry battalions. Don't take too long. I intend to launch a campaign in September."

News of Livonia's new king quickly spread around the Baltic.

At that time, Halfdan happened to be conducting business in Pomerania.

More specifically, he was collecting debts on behalf of Britannia's Pontiland Trading Company.

As payment, he received forty percent of whatever he recovered.

After a short but intense negotiation, Halfdan forced the debtors to compromise.

They surrendered property worth approximately £260, including:

Silver

Amber

Furs

Large quantities of rye

"That's everything," Halfdan said.

"Does it cover the debt?"

The company's manager began calculating the value while Halfdan pulled a pewter flask from his coat and took a sip of fine wine.

Half a minute later, he let out a satisfied belch.

"This tribe is weak. My two hundred armored retainers could have wiped them out in ten minutes. Why go through all this trouble?"

The manager adjusted his abacus and replied quietly:

"Business depends on reputation."

"This tribe failed to repay its debts. Collecting what they owe is perfectly reasonable."

"But destroying the tribe outright would make us look excessive. That would hurt the company's future operations."

Once the accounting was complete, laborers loaded the goods onto the company's two-masted vessel.

The silver and rye were left behind for Halfdan as his commission.

"Your Majesty," the manager said respectfully, "on behalf of the Pontiland Trading Company, I sincerely thank you for your assistance."

"A small matter."

Halfdan waved dismissively.

"If you have similar business in the future, remember to come to me."

Now that Vig controlled both Britannia and Francia, Halfdan no longer dared raid his territories.

Instead, he spent most of his time idle at home.

If he could monopolize debt collection contracts from the major trading companies, it would greatly ease the financial burdens of his kingdom.

Just before they parted ways, Halfdan mentioned Livonia's new king.

The manager casually revealed a few details.

The information left Halfdan stunned.

"Three thousand pounds every year?"

"That miserable place is nothing but forests. It won't pay for itself for a century. What exactly is Vig thinking?"

Halfdan thought about how he had just spent his day negotiating over property worth a mere hundred pounds, lowering himself to work for merchants.

The comparison hit him like a blow.

Once upon a time, he and Vig had stood as equals.

Now the gap between them had grown so vast that it was almost impossible to comprehend.

To Halfdan, there could be nothing more bitter than that realization.

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