Building a Viking Empire with Modern Industry-Chapter 144: Consulting Firm

Rain poured down upon the industrial tracks of the Northern Line, turning the gravel embankments into grey sludge.

At the moment, an army of Directorate Engineers was on the move.

Ragnar sat in the executive car, looking out at the bleak landscape of the Scottish Lowlands. Opposite him sat Princess Elfwynn, who was nervously adjusting her spectacles.

She had packed her warmest cloak, as instructed, but she still shivered slightly.

Vizier Al-Hakam was also present, looking at the rolling hills with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. He missed the sun of Cordoba, but the promise of coal kept him warm.

"The Scots are stubborn, Director," Al-Hakam noted, sipping tea from a delicate glass cup. "My traders tell me King Kenneth values his independence more than gold."

"Every man has a price, Vizier," Ragnar replied, tapping his silver-geared cane on the floor. "For some, it’s gold. For others... it’s central heating."

Ragnar stood up and walked to the map of Scotland pinned to the wall.

"The West Saxons have cut off our southern trade routes," Ragnar explained, tracing the line of the blockade. "King Aethelwulf thinks he can starve us out by besieging our coal mines in Nottingham. He doesn’t realize that Edinburgh sits on a literal mountain of anthracite."

"But the Scots don’t mine it," Elfwynn pointed out. "They just pick it off the surface."

"Exactly," Ragnar grinned. "That’s why we’re here as ’Consultants’. We offer to build them the deep-shaft mines. We offer to build them a railway to transport it. And in exchange... we take 51% of the yield."

"And if they refuse?" Al-Hakam asked.

Ragnar looked out the window. In the distance, the grey outline of Edinburgh Castle loomed on its volcanic rock. 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

"Then we introduce them to Project: Leviathan."

The train hissed to a halt at the makeshift station outside the city walls.

A delegation of Scottish lords was waiting..

Ragnar stepped off the train, leaning on his cane. He wore his finest black tunic, the silver gear pin glinting in the weak sunlight.

"Gentlemen!" Ragnar shouted, his voice projecting over the hiss of steam.

"I am Director Ragnar of the Iron Empire. I come with a business proposition!"

A burly man with a red beard stepped forward. This was Thane MacAlpin, cousin to the King.

"We dinna want yer smoke-machines, Viking!" MacAlpin shouted, spitting on the ground. "Take yer iron worm and go back to the sea!"

Ragnar didn’t flinch. He just smiled.

"I expected skepticism," Ragnar said calmly. "That is why I brought a free sample."

Ragnar signaled to General Bjorn, who was standing on a flatbed car. Bjorn pulled a lever, and a massive crate was lowered to the ground. Inside was a Steam-Powered Threshing Machine.

"This," Ragnar announced, patting the metal flank of the machine, "will do the work of fifty men. It separates the grain from the chaff in seconds. Think of how much time your farmers will save. Time they could spend... mining coal."

The Scottish lords looked at the machine. They looked at their calloused hands. They looked back at the machine.

"And what d’ye want for it?" MacAlpin asked, his tone slightly less hostile.

"Just a conversation with the King," Ragnar said. "And perhaps a tour of your coal fields."

...

Two Hours Later, Edinburgh Castle

King Kenneth sat on his wooden throne, wrapped in furs. He looked at Ragnar with deep suspicion. The hall was drafty, cold, and smelled of wet dog.

"You want to dig holes in my land," Kenneth summarized. "And you want to lay iron tracks across my hills. And for this, you will give me... heat?"

"Not just heat, Your Majesty," Ragnar corrected. "Industry. Imagine a Scotland where you don’t freeze in winter. Imagine a Scotland where you can forge steel in quantities that would make the English tremble."

Ragnar gestured to Elfwynn, who stepped forward with a roll of blueprints.

"My Chief Engineer has designed a Deep-Shaft Mine specifically for your geology," Ragnar lied smoothly.

"It uses steam pumps to keep the water out. You could extract tons of coal per day."

Kenneth looked at the blueprints. He didn’t understand the math, but he understood the potential.

"And the English?" Kenneth asked. "Aethelwulf will not like this alliance."

"Aethelwulf is currently stuck in the mud outside Crewe," Ragnar dismissed. "He is irrelevant. The real question is: do you want to be a King of shepherds, or a King of Industry?"

Kenneth stroked his beard. He was tempted. But he was also proud.

"I will not be a vassal to a Viking," Kenneth said firmly.

"Of course not," Ragnar agreed. "We are not talking about vassalage. We are talking about a Partnership. You keep your crown. I keep the coal rights. We split the profits."

Kenneth looked at his advisors. They nodded slowly. The promise of wealth—and warmth—was too great.

"Very well," Kenneth said. "We will try your... ’Consultancy’. But if you cheat me, Ragnar..."

"I never cheat my partners," Ragnar smiled. "Efficiency is Victory."

Later that Evening, The Executive Car

Ragnar sat in his private office on the train, pouring a drink for Al-Hakam.

"The contract is signed," Ragnar announced. "We have the coal."

"Brilliant," Al-Hakam said. "But Director... you promised them protection from the English. If Aethelwulf finds out, he will attack the supply line."

"Let him try," Ragnar said, taking a sip.

Just then, the door opened. Gyda walked in, holding a telegraph strip. She looked grim.

"Director," she said. "We have a problem in the South."

"What is it?"

"The blockade at Crewe," Gyda explained. "Aethelwulf hasn’t broken through... but he has hired Mercenaries. Frankish knights. They are bypassing the fortresses and raiding the villages."

Ragnar’s eyes narrowed. "Raiding my labor force?"

"Yes. And they are burning the crops."

Ragnar stood up, his cane hitting the floor with a sharp clack.

"What do we do?" Elfwynn asked, looking worried. "We can’t move the army south without leaving the coal mines exposed."

Ragnar walked to the window, looking out at the dark waters of the Firth of Forth.

"We don’t move the army," Ragnar said softly. "We move the Navy."

He turned to Al-Hakam.

"Vizier, is the Leviathan ready?"

"The boiler is hot, Director. But we haven’t tested the main guns."

"We’ll test them on the way," Ragnar decided. "Gyda, send a wire to Titan. Tell Leif to launch the ship. We are going to sail down the coast and break the blockade from the sea."

"But Crewe is inland," Elfwynn pointed out.

"The Mercenaries are landing supplies at Chester," Ragnar corrected, pointing to the map. "If we take the port, we cut off their pay. And mercenaries don’t fight for free."

Ragnar grinned, a terrifying sight in the dim light.

"It’s time for a Hostile Takeover of the Irish Sea."

As the train prepared to head back south, Ragnar felt the thrill of the gamble. The land war was a stalemate. The trade war was heating up. But the naval war... that was uncharted territory.

And Ragnar intended to map it with iron and steam.

"One more thing," Ragnar added. "Elfwynn, draft a press release. Tell the world that the Directorate is now the exclusive supplier of Scottish Anthracite. Anyone who wants to stay warm this winter... needs to talk to us."

Elfwynn smiled. "I’ll have it ready by morning, Director."