British hegemon

Chapter 136 The New King Ascends the Throne

After tidying up, Cader led Roger and his party to a mansion in the wealthy district and personally paid a visit to Lilmont Grant, the undersecretary of the Glasgow Chamber of Commerce, who was the same fat merchant Roger had lavishly entertained at the Moulin Rouge on Arron Island.

Lilmont was around forty years old, with a bald head and a chubby, smiling face. Even though it was early spring, he was always covered in sweat, frequently wiping it with a towel.

"Sir Roger, I have done my best. If I were the head, I would ensure your goods have unimpeded passage, but unfortunately, I am not the head." Lealmont's tone was very polite, but he refused to open a channel for goods from Arlen Island.

But Learmont also cleared up Roger's doubts—the textiles and salt from Arron Island were originally sold normally in the market, but the quality of the goods produced by Campbell Textile Mill and Saltworks was far superior to those original products, which made the entire Glasgow market feel a crisis.

This is a market-driven protection mechanism, later known as monopolistic trade, but it is only a secondary factor.

The main reason is that King Edward I recently issued a decree imposing trade restrictions on all British territories, which, in short, restricts all anti-British forces.

The head of the Glasgow Chamber of Commerce was a lackey of the English. Relying on the background of his English masters, he dictated the Glasgow Chamber of Commerce. He faithfully carried out the orders of his English masters and tried his best to squeeze out the power of the Scottish merchants.

As the island of Arron, a staunch anti-British faction, it naturally bore the brunt of the attack.

Roger wanted to try to get more help from Learmont, but he beckoned to his butler and said, "Have the servants prepare dinner. I want to treat Sir Roger to a very good meal."

Roger took a breath and waved to interrupt, "Mr. Learmont, thank you for your kind offer, but as you can see, I'm afraid I'm not in the mood for a celebratory feast today. Let's do it another day."

After saying this, he got up to take his leave and left the mansion with Kader and the others.

As soon as they stepped out the door, bald Neil came up to them complaining, "Sir, that fatso refused to stand up for us at all, what a waste of those valuable gifts. If you ask me, we should have taken them; they were worth a whole pound!"

A cool breeze swept through the street. Roger straightened his woolen shawl. "It's not that he didn't want to help, it's that he really couldn't. Besides, he explained the situation to us. It's better to leave room for maneuver so we can meet again in the future."

Roger wasn't sure if the Gaelic proverb was clear, but seeing bald Neil's confused expression, he didn't want to say anything more.

Having grasped the crux of the problem, Roger had no choice but to brace himself and visit the pro-British head of the Glasgow Chamber of Commerce, carrying generous gifts.

A luxurious mansion with two courtyards, a garden with sculptures, fountains, and an imposing gate; even the walls are painted white lime.

"Impressive! Truly impressive!!"

Standing outside the mansion gate, the people behind him couldn't help but click their tongues in admiration.

After watching for a while, just as they were about to step inside, a man wearing a gray tight-fitting short robe blocked their way; he was clearly a guard of the mansion.

"What are you doing? Do you know where you are?" The man gripped the hilt of his sword with his right hand and blocked Roger's path with his left.

The black dog Sigurd and Donald immediately stepped forward, but Roger stopped them.

He said politely, "My friend, I am Roger Campbell, a knight from the Isle of Arran. I have come all the way from Arran to visit your master. Please show me the way."

Roger had already tried his best to be polite, after all, this was a dog that relied on its master's power.

The man lowered his hand to stop him, but showed no intention of making way. "So you are a knight, but there are too many nobles visiting my master every day. I'm afraid my master can't see them all."

This guy was obviously looking for trouble, and Bald Neil, Black Dog Sigurd, and the others all wanted to go up and fight.

When you're under someone's roof, you have to bow your head. Roger stopped the group again and winked at Kader beside him. Kader understood, took out a few silver pennies from his waist, and handed them to the man.

The man weighed the silver coins in his hand, making a clinking sound. His expression brightened slightly. "Thank you, sir. Please wait a moment. My master is in the manor. I will go and inform him immediately." With that, he gently closed the door.

Roger and his group stood outside the gate for a full half hour.

Just when patience was about to run out, the door finally opened, and a head peeked out. "Sir Roger, my master invites you in."

The group stepped inside, only to be stopped again. "Sir Roger, my courtyard is not a place where just anyone can enter."

Roger closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and turned to the others, saying, "Karder and Donald, come inside with me. The rest of you, wait here."

Finally, he gave the black dog Sigurd a wink, signaling him to guard the gate.

Fed up with a bellyful of anger, Roger had no interest in admiring the mansion, while Donald, who had never been to such a mansion before, kept looking around.

The fact that the Glasgow Chamber of Commerce leaders "received" Roger on a stone bench in the small garden outside the main building was undoubtedly a sign of disrespect.

"Sir Roger, I once advised Baron John not to antagonize the English, and I must remind you today not to try to steal even half a coin from the English purse..."

'

The merchant guild leader, sporting a full mustache, maintained an arrogant demeanor throughout, implying that goods from Arun Island could only be sold to him at low prices, or face certain death.

"It's still early. Perhaps you can still make it back to Aran Island now. Come to Glasgow when you've thought things through."

The bearded leader, sitting in a reclining chair, kept fiddling with the gold ring on his middle finger and barely even looked up at Roger.

Roger brought generous gifts, but they were returned untouched...

Roger's face remained ashen throughout the journey back to the hotel.

The attendants assumed Roger was harboring resentment because he had suffered a great humiliation, but Roger was not worried about the cold reception he had just received. He was worried about the market. In such a trading city, without the support of the guild, it would be difficult for a small lord to gain a foothold.

When Baron John was alive, these guilds would give him some face because of his baronial title and connections on the west coast of Scotland. But now that he's gone, things haven't gone so smoothly since Roger took over his uncle's business.

Too weak, still too weak.

The next day, Roger spent half a day discussing with several business assistants at the hotel where he was staying. In the end, he could only come up with some expedient measures, such as secretly selling the goods to the undersecretary, Lilmont, and having him sell them on his behalf.

Another example is bypassing Glasgow and selling Aran Island goods directly to surrounding markets in a retail format.

However, these are not fundamental solutions. Without Glasgow as a transit market, Roger's two factories will find it difficult to obtain smooth sales channels in the west-central part of Scotland and even the northern part of Scotland.

Just as Roger and his companions were in a state of panic, several hurried figures slipped through the back door of the British trading company.

After being away on the road for more than half a month, Earl Earl and his henchmen brought back astonishing news: on the Feast of the Annunciation last month, Earl Robert Bruce of Carrick held a solemn but hurried ceremony in Squin to announce his coronation.

"I heard that the new king will hold a grand mass on Palm Sunday after his coronation, but the horses we rented were forcibly requisitioned, so we dared not waste any time and could only sneak out of Squin Castle at night." This time, the ponytail Earl and the henchman rode eastward as messengers with swords at their sides. Although there were occasional difficult lords who forcibly collected transit taxes, overall it went very smoothly.

"...On our way back, we've already seen some lords who have responded to the new king begin recruiting soldiers and attacking the English castles. It's estimated that the decree of the new king's coronation is already on its way to Glasgow." Earl the Ponytail was exceptionally excited because almost all the major events Roger had predicted had come true, and he himself had personally witnessed the birth of a new Scottish king in Scone.

Roger's half-baked prophecy came from historical anecdotes he heard during his previous life in the smuggling trade. The merchants who sold him goods would always try to connect their products to the history of the country in some way, thus elevating their so-called historical significance.

But Roger only knew the outline; Robert Bruce's legendary story, after being embellished, could no longer correspond one-to-one with historical facts.

However, based on the intelligence analysis brought back by Earl the Ponytail, Roger's assessment of the general historical trend was at least not directional.

The true master of the brave heart eventually became the ruler of Scotland. Roger knew very little about the specific process, but for him, this information was enough to guide his next move.

Roger locked himself in his hotel room and pondered for half the morning, after which Earl, the girl with the ponytail, was called into the room alone.