Vikings: Lords of the Ice Sea

Chapter 95 The Treaty
West Frankish soil is fertile, climate is mild, and natural conditions far surpass those of other European countries. As long as peace can be achieved, "Bald" Charles will not be stingy with a little money.

Ella remained expressionless as he listened to their conversation. Despite his deep hatred for the Vikings outside the city, as a freeloading exiled nobleman, he had no right to question his master's decision and could only continue to lie low and wait for an opportunity.

Upon learning that Lambert was about to leave the city, a group of noblewomen, having somehow received the news, gathered outside his house and begged him to go to the prisoner-of-war camp to help gather information.

Realizing that these people were on the verge of emotional collapse, Lambert straightened his posture and adopted a righteous and awe-inspiring stance.

"Ladies, I will make it clear to Ragnar that he will treat the captured nobles with respect."

Pushing through the crowd, Lambert rode to the south bank bridgehead and then walked to the siege camp.

Surprisingly, the Vikings guarding the camp entrance did not give him any trouble and seemed to be open to negotiating with the Franks.

After waiting for about ten minutes, Lambert followed the guards to the most conspicuous tent in the camp. Inside the tent, a middle-aged man wearing a crown was reading a book, with a young translator standing beside him.

The translator relayed the host's words in Latin: "Please sit down."

After taking his seat, Lambert straightened his back and solemnly conveyed "Bald" Charlie's peace request: withdrawal of troops and a five-year non-aggression pact.

Soon after, the translator relayed Ragnar's conditions: 30,000 pounds of silver and 1,000 warhorses; only if these conditions were met would the siege cease.

"Your Majesty, we don't have that much money."

Lambert forced a pitiful expression. “Even if you attack Paris at the cost of casualties, you won’t be able to plunder this enormous wealth. Moreover, assuming Paris falls and the king dies in battle, the nobles from all over the country will elect a new king to continue the fight. Your army cannot sustain a long war of attrition and will eventually have to retreat to Britain.”

According to the information he gathered, Ragnar, who captured Winchester last year and chose to spare Ethelwaugh, allowing him to continue ruling, was a clear-headed Norman leader.
Barring any unforeseen circumstances, there is at least a 70% chance of a peace negotiation this time.

At noon, the first round of negotiations ended. The price offered by both sides was too far apart, and Lambert's authority was insufficient, so he had to take his leave and return to the city.

Before his departure, he was granted permission to visit a prisoner-of-war camp in the south. It had originally been a village, where the Vikings had ordered the prisoners to build houses and construct walls around them. The camp was under strict management, but the prisoners looked relatively well and did not appear to have been mistreated.

After looking around, Lambert suggested improving the living conditions of the noble prisoners of war, only to be met with a glare from the guard captain. "Hey, we're lucky to get any porridge. Don't push your luck. Do you think Ragnar would care about something like this?"

"Of course, because it involves his interests, or more precisely, the interests of the entire Viking army."

Next, Lambert explained the Frankish traditions to the guard chief:
After being captured, nobles were entitled to be treated with dignity and had the right to demand their ransom, which was equivalent to 2 to 4 years' income.

(Note: In 1193, King Richard I of England, the Lionheart, was captured and paid 150,000 marks to the Holy Roman Empire as ransom, equivalent to 34 tons of silver, or 97,000 pounds at the time! This consumed three years' worth of royal revenue.)

"Peace talks are a done deal. Remember this: if you accidentally kill a nobleman, you lowly soldiers can't afford to take that responsibility."

"Really? You, you're kidding me." Threatened, the guard captain panicked. Some time ago, someone had indeed accidentally killed a count's nephew, and two other nobles had also died from their injuries.

This is trouble.

Once the prisoners were linked to silver, the higher-ups would never tolerate it. The leader, trying to remain calm, saw the messenger off and pondered for a long time alone under the shade of a tree. In desperation, he found Ragnar and confessed the truth.

Meanwhile, Lambeto returned to Cité and relayed the Normans' terms to them.

“Your Majesty, Ragnar has no interest in our land. He is only interested in making a quick buck and is demanding 30,000 pounds of silver and a thousand warhorses.”

puff!
Charlie spat out the red wine in his mouth. "That's it? Norman, you penniless bastard, you've got no taste for this little bit of money. You've made me suffer for nothing."

He took the silk handkerchief handed to him by the maid, wiped his mouth haphazardly a couple of times, and tossed it aside.

"Go out of town again tomorrow. Don't agree too readily. Remember to negotiate with the other side first." "Understood."

The following day, Lambert went to Ragnar's camp again and argued that the royal family could only provide 10,000 pounds of silver and 500 horses. As for the ransom from the various noble families, it would amount to about 6,000 or 7,000 pounds and several hundred warhorses.

Looking at the red-faced Frankish dwarf, Ragnar frowned. Could it be that "Bald" Charlie was in such dire straits that he couldn't even come up with this little bit of money?

He ordered his guards to take the envoy aside and convened a meeting of high-ranking officials.

Ten minutes later, Ragnar looked at the few scattered figures and asked incredulously, "Where are the others?"

"Nils and Om are hunting nearby, Ivar is leading a team to intercept reinforcements in the vicinity, Theowuff is praying in a country church somewhere, Gunnar is out training horses, and Vig has gone to scout the terrain in the forest twenty miles to the southeast."

In short, two-thirds of the higher-ups were slacking off, leaving Ragnar speechless. After discussing with the few who remained, they decided to increase the amount to 20,000 pounds of silver and 1,500 warhorses.

Oak groves southeast of Paris.

Led by a local resident, Vig arrived at a circular open space and gazed at the clear, turquoise spring: "Is this Fontaine belle eau?"

He stirred the water a few times, but found nothing unusual. He sighed and took out paper and pen to sketch the scene.

"Sigh, what a waste of time, what a pointless trip."

Having ended this utterly disappointing journey, Vig returned to the besieged camp and learned the contents of the agreement from Ragnar. "Your Majesty, why didn't you ask for more?"

Ragnar tossed him a hastily written letter, which Vig glanced at from beginning to end. "Hafdan defeated? Absolutely."

Considering that Hafdan was Ragnar's son, Vig swallowed back some sarcastic remarks, "Well, there's still a bunch of messy things to deal with in the territory, it's better to go back sooner rather than later."

To be honest, acquiring such a huge fortune in less than two months of fighting is far more cost-effective than last year's Mercia and Wessex wars, especially the 1,500 Frankish warhorses. Based on his achievements recently, he should be able to get at least 100 of them.

Silently calculating his share of the spoils, Vig bowed and took his leave, preparing to return to write "The Frankish War".

At this moment, Ragnar suddenly stopped him, "At the gates of Paris, you annihilated the main force of West Franks in one battle. Such an achievement is worthy of being remembered for generations. I intend to promote you to Duke. What do you think of Wales?"

In front of Pascal and other nobles, Vig instinctively refused, saying, "I'm still more used to the northern climate. Coincidentally, the Picts frequently raid my villages, and I intend to conquer the north to completely eliminate this threat."

After Vig finished speaking, Ragnar readily agreed to his request and promoted him to Duke of Tynburg, nominally giving him control over the entire North.

The North is rugged and the climate is relatively cold. Moreover, the local Picts are exceptionally fierce. Using such a blank title to appease them is simply the best deal.

After bestowing the title upon Vig, Ragnar then promoted Ivar to Duke of Duflin, nominally giving him control over all of Ireland.

Ivar accepted this without hesitation. In his view, there was not much difference between a duke and an earl; the locals would not be loyal to him because of a worthless title, and he would still fight every battle that was necessary.

After the investiture ceremony ended, Ivar secretly grumbled to himself:

"Having spent too much time with Sora, Pascal, Goodwin, and the others, the old man is getting more and more cunning. I wonder what new tricks he'll come up with in the future?"

In the following days, Vigé stayed in his tent writing "West Frankish Wars". When he finished the final part, he suddenly heard a report from his subordinates that a Viking fleet was sailing downstream, flying the sword and axe banner of King Eric.

(End of this chapter)