Building a Viking Empire with Modern Industry-Chapter 220: Prince of Granada Crosses the Narrow Sea

Since then the winds had been kind, carrying the small fleet steadily northward from the sunlit ports of Granada toward the grey waters that separated the Mediterranean dream from the iron reality of the North.

Al-Hakam stood at the prow of the lead galley his eyes fixed on the horizon. He brought fifty of his finest Mamluks, each man hand-picked for loyalty and skill with blade and bow.

He had loaded the holds with the finest goods Granada could offer... bolts of linen spun on the new machines, chests of gold and jewels, spices from the East, and rare silks that would make even the richest English lord pause.

After all, one did not arrive at the Lion’s door empty-handed.

Yet the true treasure he carried was hope. He expected new blueprints from Ragnar... designs that would push Granada’s factories beyond anything the Caliphate had ever imagined.

He also carried a secret wish... a young Mamluk named Tariq, barely eighteen summers old and already the deadliest blade in all of Granada, might catch the Iron Father’s eye.

The boy could kill a man in seconds without making a sound, and Al-Hakam dreamed of seeing him raised to captain in Ragnar’s service.

Tariq stood a few paces behind him now, silent as always, one hand resting lightly on the curved hilt of his shamshir. The young warrior’s eyes never stopped moving across the waves.

"Still watching for ghosts, Tariq?" Al-Hakam asked without turning, a faint smile in his voice.

The boy answered in that calm tone that never seemed to rise above a whisper. "The sea is full of Ghosts."

Al-Hakam chuckled softly, "That is why I brought you. When we reach City Titan, I want Ragnar to see what true loyalty looks like. Perhaps he will take you into his service. A captain’s rank among the Grenadiers would suit you far better than guarding my palace walls."

...

Two Days passed. The fleet pushed north, the Mamluks drilling on deck each morning with blades flashing under grey skies while Al-Hakam spent long hours in his cabin reviewing the sealed blueprints he hoped to receive in return.

The voyage continued, each day bringing them closer to the cold northern waters. Al-Hakam spent long evenings walking the deck with Tariq, speaking of the future he envisioned... factories rising along the Guadalquivir, ships flying the banner of Granada from Lisbon to Constantinople, and a young Mamluk captain standing at Ragnar’s right hand.

Finally the coast of England rose on the horizon. The ports of City Titan knew Al-Hakam well by now.

The moment his galley was sighted, workers and guards moved. Ropes were thrown, gangplanks lowered, and the precious cargo... chests of gold, bundles of silk, crates of spices and jewels was unloaded onto waiting horses with respectful care.

No one asked for bribes or delayed the Prince of Granada. The Lion Banner flew high above the docks, and everyone here understood what it meant to welcome a friend of the Iron Father.

Al-Hakam rode at the head of the small procession, Tariq riding silently at his right hand while the fifty Mamluks formed a protective column behind them.

As they crested the final rise, the walls of City Titan came into view.

At that very moment within the palace, Ragnar sat at the head of the long table while Louis the Stammerer leaned across from him, both men surrounded by scattered sheets of parchment covered in sketches and notes.

Ragnar picked up one of the latest drawings, turning it toward the prince, "This one is still rough, but the idea is simple enough. A device that measures distance across open water without ever touching land. You align it with the stars at night or the sun by day, and it tells you exactly where you are."

Louis stared at the sketch. He shook his head slowly, a stunned laugh escaping him. "You speak of this like it’s nothing more than a new kind of fishing net... this would let any ship cross an ocean without ever losing its way. How do you even think of something like that? Every time you show me another drawing, my head spins. Since then I have sat here listening to you describe machines that heat entire cities, wool made from furnace slag, and now this. It’s impossible."

Ragnar leaned back, "The world is larger than any of us were taught. The trick is simply to look farther than the horizon in front of you."

Louis set the paper down and rubbed his face with both hands, "Even so, it doesn’t make sense. You come from the fjords... How? How does a man raised among wooden longships and axe fights know how to heat an entire city with pipes or spin stone into wool that holds warmth like a living thing? Is this some divine gift? Did the sky itself open and drop all this knowledge into your head so the world could finally move forward?"

Ragnar watched the young prince for a long moment. He picked up another sketch, this one showing a simple network of pipes branching beneath streets, and slid it across the table.

"Men simply forgot how to look up. I remembered. That is all."

Louis laughed again, "Remembered? No one remembers how to build machines that have never existed. Not in the fjords. Not anywhere. You speak of things that feel like they belong a thousand years from now."

Ragnar’s laugh joined his as he leaned forward and poured them both another measure of warmed wine from the pitcher. "I am only a man who saw what could be and decided the world had waited long enough."

Louis took the cup, "I almost wish my uncle could see this room. He would understand why his two thousand knights suddenly look so small."

Ragnar raised his cup in a small toast, "Your uncle will learn soon enough. But for now, let us enjoy the quiet before the storm. The world is changing faster than any of us can track. These drawings are only the beginning."

Louis was about to answer when the doors at the far end of the solar opened without warning. A guard stepped inside, bowing low before speaking with clear excitement.

"My lord. Prince Al-Hakam of Granada has just arrived at the southern gate. He brings fifty Mamluks, chests of gold and silk, and enough spices to scent the entire city. He asks to see you at once."

Ragnar’s face lit up with genuine pleasure as he set his cup down and rose from his chair. "Finally... The Prince of Granada crosses the narrow sea at the perfect moment. Louis, you will like this man."

Louis stood as well, curiosity cutting through his earlier wonder. "The Caliphate’s man? Here? Now?"

Ragnar clapped a hand on the young prince’s shoulder as they moved toward the doors together. "We have much to discuss, and I suspect you will want to hear every word."