Chapter 280: Journey from the North
Two short weeks passed for Ragnar, who barely noticed the time passing as he remained completely focused on his work inside the large stone building located in the center of City Titan.
He spent these fourteen days working closely alongside his friend, Louis the Stammerer, organizing the massive chests filled with gold and silver coins they had collected from the foreign kings during the grand auction.
Ragnar dedicated all his daily physical and mental effort to expanding the iron foundries, managing the supply lines of black powder, and training his foot soldiers to use the new weapons.
Louis helped Ragnar manage the workers who operated the hot furnaces, and in return, Ragnar provided Louis with a safe home and a position of high honor, far away from his political enemies who had stolen his royal title in France.
Despite Ragnar’s quiet focus on his military duties, those were two weeks that shook the north of England.
Everyone living in the surrounding territories and coastal settlements knew that King Donald was about to seize another large piece of land from the north.
This specific northern region consisted of dense forests and high hills, and the local tribes living there had rebelled against King Donald’s rule during the exact week that he sat in City Titan bidding on Ragnar’s weapons.
The leaders of the northern tribes had assumed that King Donald was absent and vulnerable, so they gathered their spearmen, fortified their wooden forts, and proudly declared their independence from his kingdom.
However, they did not possess the information that King Donald was returning to his lands with a heavy field cannon that could easily shoot a solid iron ball and destroy their defensive stone walls from a great distance.
Because of the inclusion of this new, highly destructive weapon in King Donald’s army, all the surrounding tribes watched carefully to see how big the territory would be this time.
...
Scone, Kingdom of Scotland
Scone was a large settlement surrounded by a thick stone wall, containing many large stone buildings where the local lords met to discuss taxes, laws, and military campaigns. Furthermore, it was the specific site of King Donald’s coronation, meaning the city held great honor and historical importance for the royal family, and it was heavily guarded by organized groups of foot soldiers.
Inside the busy, crowded markets of this capital city, a young man who looked to be in his twenties walked slowly past the continuous rows of wooden stalls.
This young man wore a black cloth cloak that covered his head and shoulders, and his clothing was dirty and worn at the edges.
He walked with a quiet step and stopped walking when he reached a specific flat wooden table where a shopkeeper sold various metal goods, iron tools, and raw materials.
The young man lifted his hand from beneath his black cloak and pointed his index finger directly at a small piece of metal resting on the wooden table.
"How much is this, sir?" The young man pointed to a piece of metal and asked.
The shopkeeper looked at the young man’s dirty black cloak and frayed boots, "Tsk... Do you have enough to buy it? Who is your master?"
The shopkeeper said with disgust, crossing his arms over his chest.
Despite the shopkeeper’s hostile and insulting reaction, the young man did not become angry or raise his voice.
"King Donald’s younger brother, Mr. Kenneth McAlpine, sent me to buy some supplies for him."
The young man stated, delivering the lie with complete confidence and a relaxed posture.
After all, Kenneth McAlpine was a man of extreme power, wealth, and honor in Scone. He commanded his own units of soldiers and owned large tracts of farming land. Any merchant who disrespected his servants or delayed his orders would face severe punishment, which could include having his wooden stall destroyed by the city guards.
"Oh, Mr. Kenneth McAlpine? Hmm, this piece is usually worth three silver coins, but for Mr. Kenneth, I’ll sell it for only two. But you must mention me to him!"
The shopkeeper’s expression changed immediately, hoping to gain political favor and future business from the king’s brother.
"Oh, of course, of course, I’ll mention you. Well, here it is." The young man chuckled, placing two silver coins onto the flat wooden table. He picked up the piece of metal with his right hand and placed it securely inside his black cloak.
With a single glance, he knew that this small piece of metal was stronger than the standard metals used by local blacksmiths to forge high-level swords.
He knew that if a sword were made from this specific piece of strong metal, and a suitable engraving of a noble family’s crest or a religious symbol were placed upon the flat side of the blade by a skilled craftsman, it would surely exceed this initial purchase price by hundreds of times.
Wealthy lords and military commanders were always willing to pay massive sums of gold for a reliable, well-crafted weapon that increased their chances of survival in the brutal wars of the century.
While the young man was looking down at the stone road and thinking about his future profits, he walked forward without looking carefully at the people moving around him. He bumped into something else, hitting his shoulder directly against a hard, unyielding surface.
When he looked back up to identify the object he had hit, he saw an armored knight standing in the middle of the street.
The knight wore a heavy shirt made of interconnected iron rings.
"What do you intend to do with that strong metal you just purchased?" The knight asked him, stepping closer and adjusting his grip on the long spear.
He told the knight that he intended to find a blacksmith to forge a proper weapon out of the metal.
Hearing this, the knight explained that while his long spear was highly effective for fighting in large infantry formations, he needed a shorter, high-quality sword for close-quarters fighting inside buildings and during skirmishes.
"Where are you going, venerable knight?" The young man asked, keeping his tone respectful.
The knight smiled broadly. He knew that the traditional blacksmiths in Scotland could not match the skills of the metalworkers located in the south.
"Me? Of course, I’m going to the most famous man in the land, Ragnar, son of Ulf." The knight replied.