Building a Viking Empire with Modern Industry

Chapter 376: A Moment of Harvest

"...none of you have mentioned Bjorn... what, you don’t want to meet him?"

Ulf paused, lowering his mug of ale. "I heard that he is ruling Calais now... but why didn’t he come to see us?"

After hearing such words, Ragnar frowned, letting out a heavy sigh. "Father... he is ruling a massive trading hub and a newly captured city, and you want him to just get in here? Calais is the gateway to Francia. It is packed full of foreign merchants, mercenaries, and angry local lords."

"...truthfully, Bjorn sent me a message a few weeks ago saying that I must get you here safely... and he will get in here if I send another highly capable man to defend the city in his place."

"That boy was always too stubborn for his own good." Ulf laughed loudly, "He probably thinks the whole city will burn to ashes if he closes his eyes for ten minutes."

"He isn’t exactly wrong..." Ragnar grinned, "But do not worry. Once the winter storms pass and the freezing seas finally calm down, I will send Lord Leofric or one of my top generals to relieve him for a few weeks. I promise you will see him soon."

"We can wait," Sigrid smiled warmly, "We are just happy to be here, Ragnar. With you. The family is finally coming back together, and that is all that matters."

"And we don’t have to smell Uncle’s terrible sheep anymore..." thirteen-year-old Ivar cheered from across the table, raising his cup of water.

"I swear, if I ever see another sheep, I will lose my mind." Sigurd added.

As the feast slowly began to wind down and the younger children started yawning, Ragnar’s mind slowly drifted away from the roasted meats and warm wine.

The Gatling gun and King Louis’s concept for an armored cart were entirely burning a hole in his brain.

He needed to draw the complex blueprints tonight, while the spark of inspiration was still fresh.

Ragnar stood up from his chair, tapping his silver cup against the table to get everyone’s attention.

"Alright, my family," Ragnar smiled warmly. "It is too late, and you have all spent a freezing month at sea. The servants have prepared the warmest guest chambers in the inner keep for you, complete with hot baths."

"A hot bath sounds heavenly," Helga sighed, stretching her arms above her head.

"Sleep well," Gyda added, standing up to take baby Floki back from Sigrid.

Ragnar hugged his mother and father tightly, kissing Gyda on the cheek and ruffling little Magnus’s blonde hair before finally turning away from the table.

Ragnar pushed through the doors, leaving the noisy Great Hall behind.

He walked straight to his primary drafting table.

First, he drew the Gatling gun.

His hand moved rapidly across the paper, sketching the rotating circular barrels, the iron hand-crank, and the gravity-fed ammunition hopper that would hold the brass cartridges.

A few minutes later, the door creaked open. Leofric stepped into the study, carrying a silver tray with two ceramic mugs.

"Is that the new weapon?"

"Yes," Ragnar muttered.

Even so, Ragnar suddenly stopped drawing. His piece of charcoal hovered over the paper.

He stared at the bottom of the armored cart he had just sketched. He looked at the iron-rimmed wheels.

A frown wrinkled his forehead. "Damnit..." Ragnar hissed, tossing the charcoal onto the table. "I am an idiot."

Leofric blinked, "My King? What is wrong? The design looks flawless."

"Never mind, you may go." Ragnar muttered.

...

Two weeks passed in what seemed like the blink of an eye, and the heavy autumn rains finally stopped, leaving behind a clear, pure sky.

Ragnar stood on the edge of the sprawling wheat fields just outside the walls of the city. He crossed his arms, a satisfied smile spreading across his scarred face.

"It actually worked..." King Louis breathed out.

"Of course it worked," Ragnar laughed. "I told you new farming would change everything."

Across the fields, hundreds of Norse and Saxon farmers were cutting down the golden wheat.

But they weren’t breaking their backs with dull sickles... they were using Ragnar’s newly forged steel scythes, and behind them, heavy horse-drawn mechanical reapers with rotating iron blades completely cleared the fields in a fraction of the usual time.

Even better, parked near the newly built concrete grain silos was a threshing machine.

Workers tossed bundles of wheat into the iron hopper, and the machine shook the grain loose from the stalks, spitting clean food into barrels while blowing the useless chaff away.

"We harvested more grain this morning than the entire kingdom of Wessex used to harvest in a month," Lord Commander Leofric reported, walking up with a clipboard in his hand.

His usually strict face was beaming with pride. "The silos will be entirely full by sunset, my King. No one in City Titan will starve this winter."

"Good," Ragnar nodded firmly. "Give the farmers an extra ration of ale tonight. They earned it."

Ragnar turned his head to see his ten-year-old brother, Arne, running down the path with a half-eaten candied apple in his hand.

"Arne..." Ragnar chuckled, catching the boy. "Shouldn’t you be with mother in the inner keep?"

"She let me come to the trade market!" Arne grinned, "You have to come see!"

Ragnar glanced at Leofric.

The Trade Market Day had opened this morning, bringing in merchants from every corner of the known world who had heard rumors of the Iron Kingdom’s massive wealth.

"Damnit, I suppose we should go make sure the foreign merchants are actually behaving," Ragnar smiled. "Come on, Louis. Let’s go see the market."

They walked back through the gates of City Titan and stepped into the lower commercial district.

Arne wasn’t exaggerating. The market square was completely packed with thousands of people.

However, the noise and chaos of the crowd were deafening.

Norsemen bartered with Frankish traders, Saxon blacksmiths showed off their new steel tools, and the sweet smell of roasted meats mixed with the salty sea breeze.

Gyda was standing near a silk merchant’s stall, holding baby Floki while Helga and Astrid looked at the dyed fabrics.

"Do you like this one, Helga?" Gyda asked, holding up a bright crimson scarf.

"It is beautiful." Helga gasped, touching the smooth material.

Ragnar walked up, slipping a silver coin to the merchant. "Wrap it up for her. Wrap one up for Astrid, too."

"Brother!" Helga smiled, throwing her arms around Ragnar’s neck.

Ragnar laughed, feeling a deep warmth in his chest. Even so, the peaceful family moment was abruptly shattered.

"My King! Lord Commander!"

A heavily armored harbor guard pushed his way through the dense crowd, panting heavily.

He stopped right in front of Ragnar and Leofric, giving a quick salute.

"What is it, guard?" Leofric asked.