That evening, by bright candlelight, the Whigs reviewed their accounts.
The construction of castles and the mass production of military equipment had used up most of the Territory's budget surplus of recent years, leaving only 30,000 bushels of grain in the granary.
30,000 bushels?
Whigs quickly came up with a formula. Assuming an invasion of 4,000 men into the North the following year, the campaign would last eight months, from spring to early winter. Given the physical strain of marching and fighting, the soldiers would need at least one pound of grain per day. This meant that the ration requirement was 2,000 bushels per square meter.
"Continue to buy grain in the meantime, and also buy oats for horse feed. And before the North reacts, have Mitcham quickly buy as much pig iron as possible."
In addition to the grain, the balance now included 1,200 pounds of silver, all from the spoils of war over the past two years.
(Last year, during the Mercian-Wessex War, Vig had collected 200 pounds of silver. This year, during the Frankish War, he had collected 600 pounds. After Ragnar conquered Wales, he had been rewarded with another 400 pounds of silver, for a total of 1,200 pounds.)
Upon hearing her husband's request, Heligiev bowed her head and said, "Buying so much in a short period of time will inevitably raise the price. Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Yes."
Even a lion will fight a rabbit with all his might. Vig planned to spend the entire 1,200 pounds. In addition to military rations and iron ingots, he also planned to hire knights from Britain.
"Well, let me think. Each knight pays three pounds of silver to perform, which, when dividing the spoils, is equivalent to five ordinary soldiers." "
That expensive?" Geligieva suddenly raised her voice, almost waking her son, who was sleeping in his cradle.
"Wealth has its advantages. You have not seen a massed cavalry charge. Alas, times have changed. Future wars will depend largely on cavalry; the more cavalry, the greater the chance of victory."
Based on his experience over the past two years, Whig divided the cavalry he encountered into four categories.
Originally, Anglo-Saxon horsemen did not have horses, and they were essentially equivalent to mounted infantry, performing only the functions of scouts and messengers. Their combat effectiveness was the lowest, which allowed them to occupy the fourth category.
The Viking/Norman horsemen, armed with metal horses and riding English warhorses, were in
third place. The Frankish knights were in second place.
With Frankish warhorses, Gunnar and his men gradually developed the tactic of charging with spears. Equipped with an improved high-bridge saddle, their charge was much more powerful, out-competing the Frankish knights, armed with long swords and chain hammers, placing them in the front rank.
Later historical records indicate that in the 11th century, a group of Norman knights, passing through Constantinople, demonstrated the spear charge to the Emperor Alexius
Comnenus. Their rapid charge astounded the Eastern Roman public.
Years later, Princess Anna Comnena wrote a biography of her father, The Life of Alexius, in which she praised the valor of the Norman knights, claiming that their lances could even pierce the walls of Babylon.
Heritage was skeptical after hearing Vig's explanation, but since she would not be leading troops in battle, she put the matter aside and continued discussing military expenses.
Vig ruffled his wife's hair and reassured her: "Don't worry. At worst, we can borrow money from others. Ragnar, Bjorn, Theowulf, Pascal, Ulf... each of them could borrow tens or hundreds of pounds and crush the enemy in the north with overwhelming force."
Of these borrowers, Ivar was the only one who was not borrowed. The reason was simple: the situation in Ireland was still unstable, and he simply did not have time to help Tine.
After a short three-day break, Vig returned to work. After a walk through the market, he visited the school to take stock of his teaching activities over the past few years.
It was late September 848, four years after the opening of the Ravenspeaker School. The primary school lasted five years, and the first class was due to graduate the following year.
In his office, Vig looked over the fourth grade schedule and past years' grades, then personally wrote out exam questions on three main topics.
First, Scandinavian, which required the students to master basic vocabulary. The key question was to provide key information,
which required them to write a tax report to Tyneburg, acting as tax collectors.
Next, arithmetic. Wig was given records of transactions in the cattle market and asked them to calculate the tax on each subject and sum it up.
Finally, elementary science covered basic physics and agricultural knowledge, such as the design of pulleys for lifting heavy loads,
the timing of planting different crops, and caring for sick cattle.
Having formulated the questions, Wig asked the teachers to help rewrite the exam papers and called the students together for the first exam.
From the platform, watching the students' pensive faces, he suddenly felt a wave of sadness, and then sank into memories of past years until the exam was over.
Seeing the chief's silence, the Ravenspeaker assumed that he was dissatisfied with the students' progress, and approached cautiously.
"Sir, is it time for the arithmetic test?"
asked Vig, coming to his senses from his memories. "Okay, hand out the papers."
At noon, Vig assigned the teachers to grade the papers. The results of forty-five students were mixed, but they were barely enough to be useful after the conquest of the North.
"Personally trained students are still reliable. Ragnar, on the other hand, hires many Angles for clerical work,
which leads to many shortcomings. Besides the widespread corruption, it also makes it easier for information to leak out. It is no wonder that his court has long been infiltrated by agents from Wessex and West Frankia."
With this in mind, Vig decided to allocate another twenty pounds of silver to increase the salaries of forty teachers (shamans) and two hundred and sixty students, as well as to buy paper and ink.
"What is missing?" He glanced at the teachers and students.
"I hear we have enough clothing, food, and coal. Nothing particularly urgent, it seems." The Ravenspeaker considered for a long time before asking the lord to lend him his recently acquired collection of scrolls.
"Have you finished reading the last batch of scrolls?"
Vig said nothing more. He led the Ravenspeaker, Kami Wildfire, and the other shamans back to the Castle of Secrets and allowed them to enter the library on the fourth floor of the main building to select the scrolls.
"Wait, the Chronicles of the British War and the Chronicles of the Frankish War are not allowed!"
"Why?" the Ravenspeaker wondered. He had deliberately encouraged the children to learn about the lord's glorious military exploits, to further strengthen their loyalty. Was there some secret hidden in them?
He guessed.
When Vig wrote his war diary, he would occasionally insert a complaint or two about his colleagues: someone was greedy and reckless, someone indulged the soldiers, which led to a weakening of discipline, and someone was too talkative and easily gave away secrets...
Obviously, the contents of the diary were not supposed to be made public. Seeing Vig's firmness, the Ravenspeaker left with a puzzled expression.