As Eadwig and Hilda escaped into the industrial smog, Thane Beorhtwulf was currently fighting a losing battle, defying King Aethelwulf’s rger with every ounce of his feudal pride.
However, the longer he defended the Guildhall, the more of his n were "downsized" by the West Saxon axes.
Corpses had begun to stack within the main corridor of the Guildhall, their blood flowing onto the polished stone floors like spilt ink.
With every loss, Beorhtwulf and his contractors found themselves closer to bankruptcy.
The young Thane desperately swung his Directorate-made axe at one of Aethelwulf’s huscarls, but he imdiately felt a blunt object slam into the back of his helt.
When he finally regained consciousness, Beorhtwulf found himself sitting in the Great Hall, bound and gagged among the surviving Guildmasters.
Due to the concussion rattling his skull, he did not initially realize that Eadwig was missing from the group.
King Aethelwulf entered the scene, wiping soot from his beard. When he saw that Beorhtwulf was secured alongside the other executives, a predatory smile appeared on his face.
"Brave effort, Thane," Aethelwulf sneered, pacing in front of them. "But foolish. You should have signed the exclusivity deal when I offered it!"
Beorhtwulf glared at the King with disgust; his only response was spitting a glob of blood onto Aethelwulf’s boot.
In response, Aethelwulf snapped his fingers, and a huscarl backhanded Beorhtwulf with a mail-clad fist, knocking several teeth loose.
"Stubborn," Aethelwulf sighed, wiping his boot.
"Just like the rest of rcia. Listen well: You and your guilds belong to Wessex now. If you do not submit, I will nationalize your assets and marry your daughters to my Thanes. Your lineage will be nothing more than a footnote in my ledger."
Though Beorhtwulf was resilient to threats of violence, hearing that his family’s legacy would be erased made him grimace. Aethelwulf was every bit as ruthless as the rumors said.
However, what ca next was out of either man’s expectations.
One of Aethelwulf’s scouts rushed into the hall, looking pale.
"My King! The Coal Guildmaster... he’s gone. We can’t find him anywhere."
Hearing this, Beorhtwulf grinned through his bloody teeth and began to taunt the King.
"Eadwig must be halfway to City Titan by now! You’ll never find him! Even if you execute us, you’ll never hold the mines legally without his signature!
Go ahead and do your worst, but Ragnar will sue you into oblivion!"
This insult stung Aethelwulf like a wasp. He furiously kicked a chair across the room.
"Find him!" Aethelwulf roared at his n. "Turn this city upside down! I refuse to believe a soft-handed guild boy escaped a city under martial law!"
Despite these orders, Beorhtwulf showed no sign of dismay. He accepted his fate, knowing that as long as Eadwig was free, Ragnar had a Casus Belli.
And if there was one thing Ragnar loved more than efficiency, it was a justifiable war.
Beorhtwulf died with a smile on his face, believing that the Iron Director would avenge him. As for Aethelwulf, he spent the remainder of the night searching every corner of Nottingham.
However, when the dawn finally rose through the smog, he realized the boy was gone.
Aethelwulf flew into a rage, demanding to find the culprit who had been lax on their duties. Eventually, the guards who Hilda had tricked were brought before the King, bound and trembling.
"Did you allow anyone to exit the gates?" Aethelwulf demanded, his voice low and dangerous.
The guard who had given the order quickly nodded, terrified.
"A courier... from Thane Leofric! She had a boy with her... said he was her apprentice!"
Aethelwulf’s eyes narrowed. "Leofric? That slippery bastard hasn’t sent a courier in weeks. How do you know she was his?"
"She had his seal!" the guard stamred. "And the paperwork looked official!"
Aethelwulf was so enraged he felt a vein throbbing in his temple. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to think like a King, not a berserker.
"Leofric," Aethelwulf hissed. "I knew he was playing both sides. He’s helping Ragnar!"
Aethelwulf was already suspicious of Leofric’s loyalty, especially after the Thane had refused to send troops to the siege. Now it appeared the man had actively sched against him. This was intolerable.
"Execute these fools," Aethelwulf ordered, gesturing to the guards.
"Put their heads on the gate. As for Leofric... I will deal with him personally."
Ragnar’s Departnt of Human Resources had inadvertently shifted the bla for Eadwig’s escape onto a man who was currently sitting in a castle fifty miles away, trying to stay neutral.
Though Ragnar was crafty, he never expected Aethelwulf to swallow the bait so completely.
"Send riders to Leofric’s lands!" Aethelwulf commanded. "Burn his villages! Find that boy and bring his head!"
Aethelwulf had given orders to follow a trail that did not exist; his knights would be sent on a wild goose chase, allowing Eadwig and Hilda to successfully exfiltrate back to the Directorate.
anwhile, on the road to the Directorate
Eadwig and Hilda’s handcar had successfully reached the Humanitarian Aid Train, which was parked discreetly on a siding near the border.
As Eadwig climbed aboard the iron beast, he looked around in wonder. The interior of the train car was warr than his own guildhall.
There were cushioned seats, gas lamps, and the sll of fresh coffee.
"Welco aboard, Guildmaster," a deep voice rumbled.
Eadwig turned to see General Bjorn sitting at a table, reviewing a map. The giant Viking gestured to a seat.
"The Director sends his regards," Bjorn said, pushing a cup of coffee toward the trembling young man. "He hopes your restructuring was... painless."
Eadwig took the cup, his hands shaking. "My guild... my family..."
"Are assets we will recover," Bjorn promised, his voice calm and professional. "But first, we need to get you to Titan. The Director has a contract waiting for your signature."
"A contract?"
"To na him Protector of the Mines," Bjorn explained. "Until the hostile takeover is resolved, of course."
Eadwig slumped in his seat. He realized he had just traded one master for another. But looking around at the efficient, well-fed soldiers, and feeling the warmth of the steam pipes... he realized this master might actually keep him alive.
"Fine," Eadwig whispered. "I’ll sign."
"Excellent," Bjorn smiled.
As the train hissed into motion, heading north toward the safety of the Iron Empire, Eadwig watched the smoke of Nottingham fade into the distance.
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