To honor his most trusted followers, Vig decided to bestow a title higher than that of knight—baron, from the Latin baro.
In the Frankish lands, a baro was a war leader who held land in exchange for military service. Over time, the title evolved into the lowest rank of the hereditary nobility: baron.
"Jorlen—my longest-serving captain, victor of countless battles. You are granted Dunbar and its five surrounding villages—4,000 acres of farmland."
"Burlow—for taking Edinburgh and cleansing the hills of bandits, you are granted Boness and four villages—3,800 acres."
"Torga—for your cavalry's victory over the Gaelic coalition, you are granted Whitburn and its three villages—3,400 acres."
"The Viper—you are granted Lanark and the surrounding forests—2,000 acres."
Vig named seven new barons in all: Jorlen, Micham, Bavus, Torga, Burlow, the Viper, and Brecken.
The first three were veterans who had followed him from the beginning. Torga was a recent convert from another host. The last three were Welsh tribal chiefs—given slightly more land to secure their loyalty.
No one protested. Vig rolled up the parchment, took a sip of water, and raised another thick bundle of scrolls. It was time to ennoble the knights.
Since this was his first large-scale investiture, he had labored over the list for weeks.
There were one hundred names in total:
Thirty-eight surviving shieldguards from his earliest campaigns.
Thirty-two soldiers who had shown exceptional valor.
Twenty-five mercenary horsemen who had sworn fealty.
And five craftsmen, including Lukar, master of the forges.
By the end, Vig's voice was hoarse, but he refused to let anyone else read in his stead. He spoke every name himself.
"That is all. The north is vast. When others earn new honors, more land will be granted."
Rolling up the list, he drew out another scroll explaining the obligations of a vassal.
Each knight's estate would include 500 acres of farmland, plus nearby pastures, woods, and ponds, for a total of 800–1,000 acres.
In wartime, a knight must provide:
One armored horseman,
One mounted squire,
Two foot soldiers,
And one stablehand—for forty days of service each year.
If service extended beyond that, the liege lord was required to pay wages.
Those unable to serve—such as the scholar Micham, the craftsman Lukar, or aging knights—could pay a shield tax instead, exempting them from duty until their heirs came of age.
As for the seven barons, their obligations scaled with their holdings.
For instance, Jorlen of Dunbar, with 4,000 acres (eight knight's fees), must field eight armored riders plus their attendants.
It was a heavy burden—but a necessary one. Vig reminded them that if great landholders shirked their duties, letting the realm decay, then when invaders came, no class would be spared ruin.
He also remembered the common soldiers. Regardless of origin—Viking, Welsh, or Anglo—any man willing to settle on conquered land would receive thirty acres of farmland.
By now, night had deepened, but Vig was not finished.
"My friends," he said, "in all my years of war, I have never been stingy with reward. This year, everything of value—save for a few books—has gone to you. By now, each of you should have enough wealth to build and develop your fiefs. To help you begin, I decree two years free of tax. Use that time wisely. Build. Think."
Knowing some of them were reckless spenders, Vig also provided a starter grant for each knight:
ten shields
ten short axes
ten spears
ten bows and quivers
and a hundred bushels of grain
These, he said, would help their retainers secure and farm their new lands. Horses and tools they must purchase themselves. He offered to arrange bulk orders for warhorses but would not forbid private trade.
"Any other questions?"
Silence.
Vig drew the Dragon's Breath Sword from his belt. One by one, barons and knights knelt before him, swearing fealty as dawn bled into the sky.
But his work was far from done.
He divided his realm into five counties:
Tyneshire (his personal domain)
Edinburghshire
Glasgowshire
Stirlingshire
Orkneyshire (the northernmost frontier)
Each county would have a governor for administration and taxation, a judge for legal matters, and a sheriff for policing and levies.
However, with only forty trained graduates available, there were barely enough to run county offices, much less the dozens of smaller settlements below them.
Vig opened the roster of fifth-year students and assigned posts based on merit:
secretaries to governors, agricultural officers, tax collectors, teachers, and clerks.
"When more students graduate," he said, "any settlement over seven hundred souls shall be raised to the rank of town, governed by civilians. Smaller villages, too remote for oversight, will elect their own headmen. As long as they pay taxes and keep the peace, I'll not meddle in their affairs."
Rubbing his temples, Vig turned to the Raven Speaker, his high shaman.
"You wanted to build temples in the four counties. The land and funds are granted—but do you have the people?"
By prior agreement, each temple's shamans would also serve as physicians. Vig worried that drawing too many southward would cripple the medical school at Tyne Town.
"It's only basic medicine," the Raven Speaker assured him. "Seven new shamans passed their trials this year—enough to keep things running."
Seeing his confidence, Vig nodded and let it stand.
After breakfast, he turned to his final concern—order.
Each county would maintain a 200-man garrison to handle small uprisings. For larger rebellions in the northern and southern highlands, he would keep two mountain battalions on permanent pay.
In total, 1,800 standing troops: eight hundred garrison soldiers and a thousand mountain infantry. Each would earn 30 silver pennies a year. With weapons and provisions, the cost came to 360 pounds of silver annually.
It was a heavy expense—but manpower was the one thing Vig did not lack.
The Anglo-Saxon kingdoms and West Francia were no longer open to raids. Countless restless warriors now wandered the coasts, hungry for work and silver.
"So long as I can pay," Vig murmured, "the north will never lack soldiers."
—------------------------------
Pat reon Advance Chapters: patreon.com/YonkoSlayer