Wessex, Iron Kingdom

April, 870 AD

Ragnar Ulfsson rode his horse down the dirt road into the center of a large town in Wessex.

Inside the wall, there were exactly three hundred stone houses and two hundred wooden houses. The total population of this town was four thousand people.

He had traveled from City Titan to Wessex today for a reason. He was conducting a grand tour of the southern territories, and today he was hosting a massive tournament in this town.

The prize for winning the tournament was one thousand silver coins and a guaranteed position as a military officer in the Iron Kingdom’s army.

Ragnar wanted to see the local knights, but more importantly, he was looking for a rare type of noble.

He wanted to find educated, open-minded aristocrats who understood mathematics, logistics, and supply chains.

Riding a brown horse to Ragnar’s right was Louis the Stammerer. Riding a black horse to Ragnar’s left was his new bodyguard, Hakon. Hakon was a giant man.

Ragnar stopped his horse. A door opened, and Lord Aethelred walked out.

Ragnar jumped off his horse. He walked up to Aethelred and smiled warmly.

"Lord Aethelred! It is very good to see you," Ragnar said directly, grabbing the man’s arm in a friendly handshake.

Aethelred laughed loudly. "Welcome to Wessex, King Ragnar! We have prepared everything exactly as you asked. The tournament field is set up on the grass outside the eastern gate. We have one hundred and fifty knights registered to compete today!"

"Excellent." Ragnar replied. "And how are the local logistics? Are the farmers meeting their quotas?"

"Yes, Your Majesty." Aethelred reported, "The town produced five thousand bushels of wheat this month. We also collected three hundred pounds of wool. I have already sent 70% of the resources to the transport ships waiting at the docks. The local people are completely fed, and there are no signs of disease or rebellion."

Ragnar patted Aethelred on the shoulder. He laughed a deep laugh. "This is exactly why I put you in charge, Aethelred. You give me clear numbers, and you do not waste."

Ragnar walked past Aethelred and stepped through the door into the stone building.

He was focused entirely on his personal reason for coming to Wessex today.

He had come here to see his first son, Magnus.

Magnus was nearly two years old now. Ragnar had made the difficult decision to leave Magnus here in Wessex when the boy was one year old.

He did this for two very reasons.

First, City Titan was currently a loud, dirty, and dangerous industrial zone filled with black powder and furnaces. It was no place for a baby. Second, Ragnar wanted Magnus to be raised by Lord Aethelred so the boy would learn the local Saxon language and customs. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

If Magnus was going to rule a unified empire of Vikings and Saxons in the future, he needed to understand both cultures perfectly.

A nursemaid walked into the room carrying a small toddler. Magnus had bright blonde hair and deep blue eyes. He was wearing a small linen shirt and soft leather shoes.

When Ragnar saw his son, his heart melted completely.

All the stress of ruling an empire, dealing with Frankish wars, and managing coal production vanished from his mind.

"Magnus!" Ragnar smiled broadly, kneeling down on the floor.

The nursemaid set the boy down. Magnus looked at the bearded man for a second. Then, he giggled and ran across the floor on his short legs.

Ragnar scooped his son up into his arms and hugged him tightly. Magnus grabbed a handful of Ragnar’s beard and pulled it playfully.

"You are getting so big~" Ragnar said, "You are going to be taller than Hakon one day!"

Louis walked into the room and smiled at the baby. "Hello, Magnus~"

Magnus looked at Louis and blew a bubble of spit.

Louis sighed, adjusting the strap of his leather bag.

Hakon stood awkwardly near the wooden door. Magnus pointed a small finger at Hakon’s scary, scarred face and laughed loudly.

Hakon slowly offered a stiff, incredibly awkward wave.

Ragnar stood up, holding Magnus against his chest. "I have decided. I am taking Magnus with us to the tournament today. I want him to see the crowds, and I want the local nobles to see the heir to the Iron Kingdom."

Lord Aethelred nodded.

"Let us go, then~" Ragnar ordered.

The group walked out and headed toward the eastern gate of the town.

"Ragnar, I still do not understand why we are wasting four hours watching knights hit each other with sticks," Louis complained, waving his hand in the air.

"Heavy cavalry is entirely obsolete. Our muskets can pierce their steel armor at two hundred yards. Why do you care about finding good knights?"

"I do not care about their ability to ride horses, Louis," Ragnar said. "These knights are the sons of wealthy Dukes and Counts. They know how to read and write. They know how to manage large agricultural estates. When our factories expand, we will need hundreds of educated managers to run the supply trains and the warehouses. If I can find just five smart nobles today who are willing to adapt to our new system, the tournament is a massive success. The one thousand silver coin prize is just bait to get them here."

Louis gave a slow nod. "In truth, we weave a snare to test their worth for our service."

"Exactly~" Ragnar laughed, bouncing Magnus on his hip.

They arrived at the tournament field. It was a completely flat area of green grass.

There were wooden fences placed in the center to divide the lanes for the horses. On the left side of the field, there was a stand built for the King.

There were five thousand commoners standing around the field, cheering loudly. On the far side of the grass, one hundred and fifty knights were sitting in canvas tents, preparing their horses and polishing their steel armor.

The knights came from all over England. Some were local Saxons, and some were travelers looking for glory.

Ragnar walked up the stairs of the stand. He sat down on the chair and placed Magnus firmly on his lap. Hakon stood perfectly still to Ragnar’s right. Louis sat on a bench to the left.

A man in a yellow tunic walked to the center of the grass field and blew a loud brass horn.

"Pay close attention, Magnus," Ragnar said to the toddler, pointing at the knights lining up on the field. "Those men down there think that wearing shiny steel and riding fast horses makes them the masters of the world. But you and I know the truth. One day, all of this will be yours, and you will lead them into the modern age."

Magnus simply smiled, grabbed Ragnar’s thumb, and let out a happy little cheer as the first two knights charged their horses across the grass.