Building a Viking Empire with Modern Industry

Chapter 387: The Flammable City

Rudolf kept one arm wrapped around his son, Conrad, while hisstressed mind tried to process what his guard captain had just said.

"Trade?" Rudolf asked, his rough voice flat.

He stared at Bernard as if the man had just spoken in tongues. "Did you just say forty ships, Bernard? Forty?"

"Yes, your Grace." Bernard nodded quickly.

"Bernard, you fucking idiot," Rudolf sighed heavily. "Forty ships sailing up our river is not a merchant caravan. That is a hostile invasion fleet... they are going to burn the port to the ground!"

"But... but the commander didn’t draw his sword, my King!" Bernard argued nervously, waving his hands. "He is just standing on the pier with a giant smile on his face. He demanded to speak with you about taxes and grain!"

Conrad looked up at his father, "...the Iron Kingdom? Are they here to kill us before Emperor Louis can?"

"Nobody is killing anyone today, Conrad," Rudolf growled. He looked down at his bare feet and his thin linen sleep-tunic. "Bernard... get my boots and my sword. We are going down to the river port right now."

"Right away, my King!" Bernard saluted frantically, sprinting back down the stairs.

Thirty minutes later, King Rudolf I was dressed in his royal furs, sitting tall and imposing on his warhorse.

Prince Conrad rode closely beside him, terrified but refusing to leave his father’s side.

They rode fast through the streets of the capital, flanked by a hundred heavily armored Burgundian knights.

They finally reached the river that bordered the southern edge of the city.

Though Rudolf had fought in dozens of brutal wars and seen massive Frankish cavalry charges, the sight waiting for him at the docks took his breath away.

Docked along the riverbanks were forty terrifying ships.

They weren’t the old longboats the Vikings used to raid monasteries... these were heavily reinforced with iron plates and armed with steel shore cannons mounted on the decks.

"By the heavens..." Conrad whispered, his horse nervously stomping its hooves in the mud.

However, it wasn’t the ships that held Rudolf’s attention. It was the man standing on the pier, waiting patiently for them.

He stood nearly seven feet tall, covered in muscle and battle scars.

He wore a dark gray coat of the Iron Kingdom, and a battle-axe was strapped to his back.

As Rudolf and his heavily armored knights rode up to the pier, the giant Viking cleared his throat.

He reached into his belt and pulled out a tiny crumpled piece of parchment.

He squinted at it, his lips silently sounding out the words as if reading was a new and highly frustrating concept for him.

"Greetings, tiny southern King!" Hakon boomed, reading from the little parchment.

He forced a smile onto his face. "I am Lord Hakon, the new and highly respectful ruler of Calais. I come bearing peace and extremely profitable trade agreements from the Iron King."

Hakon then shoved the parchment back into his belt and let out a heavy sigh of relief. "Damnit, Bjorn was right. Reading is fucking hard."

Rudolf stared down at the warrior from his horse, completely bewildered. "You are a Lord? You look like you just slaughtered a bear with your bare hands."

"I did slaughter a bear last winter, actually..." Hakon chuckled warmly, taking a step forward.

The Burgundian knights instantly drew their swords, terrified by the giant’s sudden movement.

Hakon crossed his arms over his chest.

"Look, King Rudolf," Hakon said smoothly, "I am not a man who uses big words. I am just a guy who usually hits things with an axe. But Lord Bjorn explicitly told me not to punch anyone in the throat today, so I am going to respect his orders and be a nice trader."

"I appreciate your restraint, Lord Hakon," Rudolf replied dryly, keeping his hand close to his own sword.

"But why did you bring forty armed warships into my territory? If you want to trade, you normally send two ships. Not an armada."

"Because we aren’t just selling you a few bags of salt, your Grace," Hakon smirked, gesturing to the wooden crates stacked high on the decks of the ships.

Hakon whistled loudly. Two of his heavily armed guards quickly pried the lid off the nearest crate.

Rudolf leaned forward on his horse, his eyes locking onto the contents.

It wasn’t gold. It wasn’t silver... there were hundreds of steel plows, iron shovels, massive saws, and perfectly crafted nails.

In the next crate over, there were warm coats woven in the massive textile mills of City Titan.

And in a third crate, there were tightly sealed glass bottles of highly advanced medicine and clean, heavily perfumed soaps.

"What is this?" Rudolf asked, mesmerized by the quality of the goods.

A single steel plow from that crate was worth more than a dozen of his own blacksmiths’ tools.

"This is what happens when you are friends with Ragnar Ulfsson," Hakon declared proudly, patting the crate. "We are willing to trade all of it to you for cheap, heavily discounted prices."

After hearing such words, Prince Conrad looked stunned. "You... you just want to give this to us? Why?"

Rudolf narrowed his eyes. "Nothing is completely cheap, Ragnar just allied with Brittany. And now, you sail into Burgundy offering me the wealth of the world just days after Emperor Louis demands I join his new army."

Rudolf slowly pointed a finger at Hakon.

"Ragnar is trying to buy my loyalty, isn’t he?" Rudolf asked. "He wants to sandwich Francia. If Brittany holds the west, and Burgundy holds the east... Emperor is entirely surrounded. You are here to bribe me into joining your war."

Hakon stopped smiling. "Yes. King Ragnar is aware of Louis’s new muskets. He is aware of the million men forming in the south."

Hakon slowly reached over his shoulder, "We are offering you a simple choice today, Option one... you accept these crates. You take the tools, you feed your people, and you close your borders to Emperor Louis. You become an ally of the Iron Kingdom, and we make you the wealthiest King in the southern lands."

"And option two?" Rudolf asked.

Hakon tilted his head, "Option two..." Hakon answered, pulling a small iron ball from his pocket and tossing it up into the air. "You say no. You ally with the Franks. And I order these forty ships to point their shore cannons at your beautiful, highly flammable city."

Hakon caught the iron cannonball. "Do you want to see how artillery works?"