- Location
- Somewhere else
I don't know about that. Sieg recognizes Hadi as a threat, and will be happy to send him to Valhalla whether Hadi wants to go or not.
Legends Never Die (Ahistorical/CKIII Gamer)
- Thread starter Ideas-Guy
- Start date
Poor Hadi, he just wants to get over it with this madness and live a quiet life.
I really enjoy how despite how much he wants to do the smart thing and run when things become hopeless, he dosen't even hesitate to face Siegfried to protect his brother.
That is truly a great mark of bravery, not a lack of fear but overcoming his fear.
Hadi manages to defy the odds with a mix of luck, quick thinking and good planning. He is a really well written underdog.
I really enjoy how despite how much he wants to do the smart thing and run when things become hopeless, he dosen't even hesitate to face Siegfried to protect his brother.
That is truly a great mark of bravery, not a lack of fear but overcoming his fear.
Hadi manages to defy the odds with a mix of luck, quick thinking and good planning. He is a really well written underdog.
Ravenfeast
- Location
- USA
I was pretty satisfied with how things had turned out, I thought, looking down at the sea of Abbasid soldiers that we had managed to pen in. It had been a challenge, but for weeks, I had been slowly setting the stage for this. It hadn't been easy and the cost was honestly higher than I would have preferred, but given that we had encircled an army twice our size, I suppose around five hundred dead or wounded was perfectly acceptable.
It was the same trick that King Widukind did back in Francia -- to highlight my position and make the enemy commit to destroying me. It was for that reason why I was the face of every raid when I burned their food reserves and beheaded their leadership, leaving only the Prince for the sake of capture. It was hard fighting, even for me, and after a month, I had a slow growing collection of wounds and bruises to prove it.
From there, I simply pretended to take the bait and led the Abbasids on a merry chase to my chosen battleground. The Prince and his advisors were clever as they decided to fan out wide, trying to close me in, but it didn't disrupt my plans much. From there, it was a simple matter of timing, positioning, and preparation to set the stage for what would likely be my greatest victory so far. Not quite comparable to Hannibal Barca, but I liked to think he smiled upon my tactic.
The battle field itself was a poor one for a large army, and I had banked on them being so blinded by me that they failed to notice until it was too late. The valley was deep, more of a ravine, with steep hills penning them in. The hills themselves were surmountable, but not easily, and the three easy exits were all controlled by my men. My rough fort held one exit with a thousand men, another was held by three thousand, while a narrow pass was held by a thousand of my men and a thousand Romans. Their positions were secured by wagon forts that blocked off the exits.
Naturally, the Abbasids attempted to escape. They crashed against us, trying to break out, but their numbers did them little good. My men were dug in, fortified, and armored. Those that didn't wield spears used axes to devastating effect. We rotated our men, keeping the front line fresh and tending to any wounds that may have been incurred. The Abbasids had far deeper reserves of men, but most of them were levies rather than the disciplined soldiers I could boast.
We didn't press the attack on the first day. We endured their assaults. On the second day, we did the same. On the third day, desperation had started to set in as the Abbasids realized my intentions and they fought to escape. It was for naught as we held strong. They gathered their strength on the fifth day for an attack that did not come. On the sixth, they made a final bid to get out to no avail.
It was the seventh day that I brought a horn to my lips and blew it, giving the signal that we had waited a week for. The horn rang out and I heard calls to arms as my men sallied out of the fort for the first time. The surrounding area was already littered with corpses, which had further fortified our position. The Abbasids had anticipated the attack and they tried to respond, but there was good reason why I waited a full week to launch an attack, risking reinforcements coming from the Abbasid settlement or the few that remained to siege Nordland.
The Abbasids had forgone a baggage train to maintain their speed in capturing me. They had food with them, but by the second and third day, it was gone. In the four days since, the Abbadids had gone hungry. I had seen more than a few eating grass simply to fill their bellies. More than that, I had been systematically killing their leadership as True Vision marked them out to me. Controlling an army of twelve thousand was no easy feat, and it required strong commanders to relay orders.
Commanders that they no longer had. I'm sure the Prince and his advisors were trying to exert their control over the army, but their influence was limited. They lacked the commanders necessary and, simply put, after a week of hunger with bottomed out morale, the men didn't want to listen. They were hungry, afraid, and what they had dreaded for days had finally occurred. The men panicked, many of them trying to flee in the face of me as those that stood firm to fight back.
The battle of Cannae wasn't merely brilliant for how Hannibal encircled a larger force with his smaller one. It was brilliant because of how the battle was fought -- Hannibal packed the Romans in, to the point that some were crushed to death. Most couldn't hope to even fight back as their arms were pinned to their sides. It was a field of slaughter and I would have the same.
The panicking men packed the Abbasids together as they surged against the pass that was guarded by two thousand men. They identified it as the weakest point and they were trying to break out. It worked perfectly for me and my men as the three thousand others pressed into the sides of the Abbasids, who packed themselves together to get away.
Then the killing began in earnest. It was slower than what I was used to. Usually I carved through the lines of the enemy formations to disrupt them, but that would have the opposite effect here. Not that there was any formation to find. Instead, my men and I opted for a slower, grinding, unyielding push against the Abbasids that slowly choked the life from them. Every step that we took, they were forced to take a step back and before long, the Abbasids ran out of room.
It wasn't glorious. Not in the same way that the battles in Francia were -- a clash of men and their arms, their leader's tactics and the gods deciding the victor. At some point, the Abbasids got so tightly packed together that they couldn't fight back at all, but all the same, we pressed on with the slaughter. Our cutthroats lagged behind us, finishing off any who we left behind and dragging their bodies away to not interfere with the battle. On the cliff sides where our archers emptied their quivers into the mass of men, missing was impossible.
The battle would be remembered, I knew, splitting a man's skull with my axe even as he was unable to level his spear at me. I would raise a runestone to it. The first one I had raised with my own hand, though I was certain that I was featured in one or two in Norway and Saxony. But, the truth of the matter was it wasn't a battle.
It was a slaughter.
A slaughter that began in the early morning and continued on until noon. There was no respite to be found as even my arms burned with effort, drenched in blood while killing yet another man. Our shield wall swapped out men, letting some grab a quick bite of bread, meat, and cheese before they were quickly forced back into the killing. The deeper that we pushed, the more we entered the valley, and the thinner we had to spread ourselves.
My boots were filled with a bloody mud, I was drenched to the bone with blood, and my arms screamed with effort with every swing that I made to the point I had decided to switch my shield arm. I was waiting for it to happen by the time the sun was at its apex. It was to be expected, even if I found myself frustrated with it.
My thinning and exhausted line suffered a breach and like an overfull waterskin, men burst forth in a flood. And, to my immense annoyance, I recognized who led the breech.
"I probably should have killed him when I had the chance," I muttered to myself, catching a glimpse of the man. Hadi, I think he was called. He must be beloved by his God because twice already, he had been spared my axe, and thrice he foiled my plans. Four times now, I amended, bringing the horn to my lips and blowing the second signal. True Vision gave me a glimpse of gold, and I knew that the Prince had escaped with Hadi.
Annoying, but hardly a disaster. I was far more concerned with his numbers advantage -- with this defeat, our numbers would be comparable. And a breach was expected, if unwelcome, so I had a plan in place for it.
With the signal, the two thousand men that had been holding their position began to press forward while I swung wide to close the gap. Our line was reinforced by fresher troops and the breach was sealed before more than a few hundred men could escape through it. Rather than give chase to the escaped Prince, we continued the battle and wore the Abbasids down to nothing. No mercy asked and no mercy given.
By the time the afternoon came, eleven thousand and six hundred men laid dead in what would later be called Ravensfeast Valley.
…
"I pity your child, Wolf-Kissed. I don't think he'll ever be able to step out of your shadow after this," I heard Alfric greet me as I overlooked the carnage. The valley was covered in corpses, and there were a handful of my men that were claiming arms and armor, along with whatever wealth they happened to find. All of which would be smelted down into their new armor and weapons by my blacksmiths.
It was a devastating victory by any metric, but not a total one. The Abbasids remained on the island and they still had the numbers to be a threat. My men were utterly spent from a long day of killing, and I was hesitant to press the advantage.
"I'll raise him to reduce me to a footnote," I replied in Germanic.
The Germanic noble hummed in response, "Have you and Princess Astrid considered names?"
"Not yet," I admitted. "Still have some time for it," about four months, based on what the midwives claimed. "Hopefully we'll be back in time to welcome my child into the world." It felt a little strange to speak of a new life before a field of fresh corpses, but it was on my mind. I wanted to raid up and down the Abbasid territory -- Acre, Tyre, Alexandria, Tripoli, Beirut, and Antioch. Perhaps even further inland. Sacking the cities would provide all the wealth I would need to pay my men, and fill Norland with trade goods.
However, before that, there were other matters. "Our losses?"
"A hundred men dead, and another four hundred wounded, but most of them will be able to fight again in a month or two." Alfric answered and my lips thinned. Between my raids and the various skirmishes, I had four hundred men dead with seven hundred wounded. Of that seven hundred, three hundred were crippled in some capacity -- a missing hand, weak limbs, or the loss of an eye. The losses were rather great in comparison, especially when considering our foe, but I needed my men more than the Abbasids needed theirs.
"I might be sending Garald back sooner than I thought," I muttered under my breath. It was tempting to recruit from the locals -- the Abbasids, and the Romans, but those men would not be sailing back with me. I wanted my mercenary company to be my army. The one that I would use to claim Denmark when the time was right. I could really use another three thousand men at the moment.
Even if it came with some risks, I thought to myself, True Vision marking one of the men that collected steel to melt down as red. The very same spy that I had noticed when they all sailed in.
I had no time to dwell on it as I saw Hoffer racing towards us on a horse, his face pale and alarmed. I tensed, bracing myself for the worst, as I turned to greet him. "Wolf-Kissed -- our ships! Those mad bastards burned our ships!" Hoffer growled, fury in his eyes as I looked beyond him. In the distance, it did seem like there was smoke rising up to the sky.
"That bastard," I muttered, knowing exactly which bastard I was speaking of. I wasn't sure if I was impressed or furious. "How many? What happened?"
"The group that escaped went straight to their settlement, but a detachment broke off. They found fifteen of our ships on the coast, slaughtered the guard, and burnt them." Hoffer informed and I scratched at my cheek, feeling the dried blood chipping under my fingernails.
That was annoying. Crete didn't have forests for me to rebuild the lost ships. The ships were there to take advantage of our maneuverability, seeing as the Abbasids lacked much in the way of a navy or horses. They went around the long way to avoid sailing by the Abbasid settlement to deliver my army to me. Nordland itself was guarded by wounded men and Romans.
The loss of fifteen ships stung. It wasn't a crippling loss, but it was a very unwelcome inconvenience.
"The men besieging Norland?" I questioned, mulling over the issue. Four thousand men had been left in their settlement while two thousand men had been left behind at Nordland to maintain the siege. An effort to prevent the defenders joining me, unaware that my men had already set sail.
"Still there. We killed a messenger recalling them, we think," Hoffer informed. Two thousand men. After a week of silence from their Prince, they must suspect something.
"We repay the loss of our ships with more blood. Give me a thousand men, fresh as we have, and I'll crush them at our gates," I decided, sending one last glance at the valley of corpses and the one enemy left within. Looking away, I clapped Alfric on the shoulder, leaving a bloody handprint on his tunic. "We'll see them off the island. Then we rest… and then, we raid."
…
Words to describe the disaster that they faced didn't exist, Hadi was certain. A month ago, they had arrived on the island with more than twenty thousand men, and now they were reduced to a mere four thousand and six hundred. They found themselves outnumbered and the last scraps of their army…
"The Pagan got to them first," Hadi informed the rather empty hall that had once housed all the leaders of the great army. Now, it was just Hadi, Yahya, and Prince Harun himself. Of all the nobility that could have survived, Emir Muhammad still lived, just grievously wounded. The scrap of parchment relayed the message that his last remaining scouts delivered, and Hadi found the walls of the settlement to be of little comfort. Not when Siegfried had already proven that he could breach them. The settlement itself was in a state of ruin, still recovering from the fire.
Prince Harun slammed a fist upon the table, restrained fury etched into his expression. "Any survivors?"
"... None. He is aware that he can't afford them," Hadi said, falling heavily into a chair. He was tired. Exhausted. Utterly spent and he just wanted to sleep.
He would never walk in a crowd again, Hadi knew. He would never forget the crushing sensation of so many bodies pressed together. Sending Naeem and Zafir here had been the greatest idea he ever had because it was nothing short of a miracle that he managed to get the Prince out of the encirclement. Their only chance had been to wait until the line got thin enough and make a push in a single direction with a concentrated force.
"A single mistake, Sheikh Hadi. You once told me that a single mistake was all I needed to make to be defeated. What mistake has been my undoing?" Prince Harun questioned and Hadi closed his eyes.
"We stepped foot on this damned island," Hadi replied and his sincere answer earned a feeble dark chuckle from Yahya.
The advisor to the Prince inclined his head to Hadi, "A mistake we must rectify, I fear. We have ten ships and four thousand men -- I say we make use of both and sail back to Acre, my Prince." Yahya was suddenly a lot more tolerable in Hadi's mind, he decided. "We find ourselves outnumbered and while Sheikh Hadi burning the ships was a welcomed boon, the Pagan does have more. We can find ourselves under assault from land and sea."
"Sheikh Hadi?" Prince Harun turned to him and Hadi considered their position for a moment. There was… one possible path on which they could secure victory.
They did have some advantages. Siegfried and his men were tired after killing thousands of men. They were exhausted, injured, and out of position. They had comparable numbers and, the very last thing that the pagans would expect after that massacre would be an offensive. If they marched out and gave battle… Hadi gave it decent odds that they could win. They may not kill Siegfried, but they could crush his spent army.
"Lord Yahya speaks wisdom, my prince," Hadi said instead. He wanted off this damn island. He wanted away from that damn Pagan. He wanted a soft bed. He wanted wine and good food. He wanted a clever whore in his lap that would make him forget all about this horror.
Prince Harun bit his lip, and despite himself, Hadi understood. This was going to be a disaster that would leave its mark upon his reputation for the rest of his life. And it wasn't his fault. Siegfried was simply a monster put on the Earth to punish them, himself in particular, Hadi felt. But no one would believe it, regardless of how true it might be. And, for a moment, Hadi feared that Prince Harun would choose death over disgrace. Which was his choice to make, so long as Hadi didn't die with him. However, he offered a shallow nod, "We depart. Now."
Hadi couldn't even hide his relief.
Preparations to depart began immediately, and after such a crushing defeat, people were eager to leave. It was dusk by the time the ships were loaded, and it was only upon the advice of Zafir that they delayed heading out into the night. Something that likely saved them as a storm came during it that continued on until the next day. At noon the next day, they finally loaded up on the ships before setting sail.
The mood was abysmal. Hadi figured it likely couldn't be lower even if Siegfried did give chase to them. There were angry mutterings, but Hadi was able to check them with a gentle word here and there. All to make Siegfried the target of their anger rather than Prince Harun. If it worked, Hadi couldn't say. But, hopefully, four thousand men repeating the same tale would lessen the impact on the Prince.
They made the same trek that they did before, sailing throughout the day before slowing during the night. It was at noon the next day that Hadi saw the familiar port of Acre. They were in the homeward stretch, Hadi could feel. So close to casting off his responsibilities. The invasion was a thorough failure, and if he was lucky, he could take most of the blame. Prince Harun would forestall any execution, while Hadi would be so disgraced that he would never be expected to fight in a battle again.
The landed, the flagship sailing into port first, and Hadi saw a crowd waiting to greet them. Hadi stood to the left of Prince Harun, and he saw his face tighten -- the city of Acre was ignorant of their defeat. They were greeted with roaring cheers as they made landfall, and Hadi found himself hoisted up alongside the prince as they were being carried towards the keep. They were treated as returning conquers, and despite himself, shame pooled in his stomach.
He could only imagine how Prince Harun felt. Especially when they made their way to the keep. It was an old fortress -- if tales were to be believed, it had stood since the days of Alexander the Great. It certainly looked it, though the walls showed signs of being refurbished. Inside was large room, one made for fighting, but it served as a welcome room when Princess Jasmine awaited them.
"Brother! You have returned!" Jasmine announced, sounding delighted. Hadi, however, found his attention drifting to something else entirely as the family reunion happened. Trailing behind Jasmine was a tiger. Large, around the height of a pony, but longer, with coiled muscle underneath striped orange fur. And it looked at Jasmine much like a common house cat might -- with affection and mild annoyance in equal measures. It wasn't even on a leash.
"I have, sweet sister. Though I wish I could return as a victor. The truth of it is far harsher -- I have been defeated," Prince Harun informed in a low voice and Hadi saw the joy melt away from Jasmine's veiled face. She stilled, standing before her brother and Hadi could practically see her mind racing.
"The ten ships…?"
"All that is left of the fleet and my army," Prince Harun confirmed quietly. They were hardly alone in the room -- attendants and servants, people of note like the Mayor to the city. Hadi saw the effect that the words had on them. The air of triumph gave way to shock and fear. "I too would be dead if it wasn't for the bravery of Sheikh Hadi. He saved my life more times than I care to count."
Well… at least his efforts were appreciated, Hadi thought as Jasmine's dark eyes flickered to him. Before she could speak, Prince Harun continued. "Father must be informed -- he expects our arrival in Anatolia any day now." Right. That was a problem, wasn't it?
"What do you intend to do, brother?" Jasmine questioned, reaching out to grip Prince Harun's hands tightly.
"I shall recruit to replenish our numbers from the surrounding area, but we shall head straight into Anatolia from there to reinforce father. With some luck, the Pagan will stay on his island and lick his wounds-" Prince Harun started, only for a messenger to enter the hallway and rush to Prince Harun's side, whispering in his ear.
Prince Harun gave no reaction until the messenger pulled away. Then he closed his eyes and… resignation. That's the word Hadi would use to describe his expression.
"Oh. Fuck. He followed us, didn't he?" Hadi heard himself say, any thought of diplomacy fleeing out of his head much like Hadi wished to flee the city.
Prince Harun opened his eyes and regarded Hadi with dark amusement, "Followed you, I suspect. You did burn his ships," Prince Harun pointed out and that was a truly blood-curdling thought. He had just wanted to make sure they didn't attack the settlement with them while he was in it! "You didn't burn enough, it would seem. Fifty of the Pagan's ships are sailing our way."
Well…
"Fuck."
...
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It was the same trick that King Widukind did back in Francia -- to highlight my position and make the enemy commit to destroying me. It was for that reason why I was the face of every raid when I burned their food reserves and beheaded their leadership, leaving only the Prince for the sake of capture. It was hard fighting, even for me, and after a month, I had a slow growing collection of wounds and bruises to prove it.
From there, I simply pretended to take the bait and led the Abbasids on a merry chase to my chosen battleground. The Prince and his advisors were clever as they decided to fan out wide, trying to close me in, but it didn't disrupt my plans much. From there, it was a simple matter of timing, positioning, and preparation to set the stage for what would likely be my greatest victory so far. Not quite comparable to Hannibal Barca, but I liked to think he smiled upon my tactic.
The battle field itself was a poor one for a large army, and I had banked on them being so blinded by me that they failed to notice until it was too late. The valley was deep, more of a ravine, with steep hills penning them in. The hills themselves were surmountable, but not easily, and the three easy exits were all controlled by my men. My rough fort held one exit with a thousand men, another was held by three thousand, while a narrow pass was held by a thousand of my men and a thousand Romans. Their positions were secured by wagon forts that blocked off the exits.
Naturally, the Abbasids attempted to escape. They crashed against us, trying to break out, but their numbers did them little good. My men were dug in, fortified, and armored. Those that didn't wield spears used axes to devastating effect. We rotated our men, keeping the front line fresh and tending to any wounds that may have been incurred. The Abbasids had far deeper reserves of men, but most of them were levies rather than the disciplined soldiers I could boast.
We didn't press the attack on the first day. We endured their assaults. On the second day, we did the same. On the third day, desperation had started to set in as the Abbasids realized my intentions and they fought to escape. It was for naught as we held strong. They gathered their strength on the fifth day for an attack that did not come. On the sixth, they made a final bid to get out to no avail.
It was the seventh day that I brought a horn to my lips and blew it, giving the signal that we had waited a week for. The horn rang out and I heard calls to arms as my men sallied out of the fort for the first time. The surrounding area was already littered with corpses, which had further fortified our position. The Abbasids had anticipated the attack and they tried to respond, but there was good reason why I waited a full week to launch an attack, risking reinforcements coming from the Abbasid settlement or the few that remained to siege Nordland.
The Abbasids had forgone a baggage train to maintain their speed in capturing me. They had food with them, but by the second and third day, it was gone. In the four days since, the Abbadids had gone hungry. I had seen more than a few eating grass simply to fill their bellies. More than that, I had been systematically killing their leadership as True Vision marked them out to me. Controlling an army of twelve thousand was no easy feat, and it required strong commanders to relay orders.
Commanders that they no longer had. I'm sure the Prince and his advisors were trying to exert their control over the army, but their influence was limited. They lacked the commanders necessary and, simply put, after a week of hunger with bottomed out morale, the men didn't want to listen. They were hungry, afraid, and what they had dreaded for days had finally occurred. The men panicked, many of them trying to flee in the face of me as those that stood firm to fight back.
The battle of Cannae wasn't merely brilliant for how Hannibal encircled a larger force with his smaller one. It was brilliant because of how the battle was fought -- Hannibal packed the Romans in, to the point that some were crushed to death. Most couldn't hope to even fight back as their arms were pinned to their sides. It was a field of slaughter and I would have the same.
The panicking men packed the Abbasids together as they surged against the pass that was guarded by two thousand men. They identified it as the weakest point and they were trying to break out. It worked perfectly for me and my men as the three thousand others pressed into the sides of the Abbasids, who packed themselves together to get away.
Then the killing began in earnest. It was slower than what I was used to. Usually I carved through the lines of the enemy formations to disrupt them, but that would have the opposite effect here. Not that there was any formation to find. Instead, my men and I opted for a slower, grinding, unyielding push against the Abbasids that slowly choked the life from them. Every step that we took, they were forced to take a step back and before long, the Abbasids ran out of room.
It wasn't glorious. Not in the same way that the battles in Francia were -- a clash of men and their arms, their leader's tactics and the gods deciding the victor. At some point, the Abbasids got so tightly packed together that they couldn't fight back at all, but all the same, we pressed on with the slaughter. Our cutthroats lagged behind us, finishing off any who we left behind and dragging their bodies away to not interfere with the battle. On the cliff sides where our archers emptied their quivers into the mass of men, missing was impossible.
The battle would be remembered, I knew, splitting a man's skull with my axe even as he was unable to level his spear at me. I would raise a runestone to it. The first one I had raised with my own hand, though I was certain that I was featured in one or two in Norway and Saxony. But, the truth of the matter was it wasn't a battle.
It was a slaughter.
A slaughter that began in the early morning and continued on until noon. There was no respite to be found as even my arms burned with effort, drenched in blood while killing yet another man. Our shield wall swapped out men, letting some grab a quick bite of bread, meat, and cheese before they were quickly forced back into the killing. The deeper that we pushed, the more we entered the valley, and the thinner we had to spread ourselves.
My boots were filled with a bloody mud, I was drenched to the bone with blood, and my arms screamed with effort with every swing that I made to the point I had decided to switch my shield arm. I was waiting for it to happen by the time the sun was at its apex. It was to be expected, even if I found myself frustrated with it.
My thinning and exhausted line suffered a breach and like an overfull waterskin, men burst forth in a flood. And, to my immense annoyance, I recognized who led the breech.
"I probably should have killed him when I had the chance," I muttered to myself, catching a glimpse of the man. Hadi, I think he was called. He must be beloved by his God because twice already, he had been spared my axe, and thrice he foiled my plans. Four times now, I amended, bringing the horn to my lips and blowing the second signal. True Vision gave me a glimpse of gold, and I knew that the Prince had escaped with Hadi.
Annoying, but hardly a disaster. I was far more concerned with his numbers advantage -- with this defeat, our numbers would be comparable. And a breach was expected, if unwelcome, so I had a plan in place for it.
With the signal, the two thousand men that had been holding their position began to press forward while I swung wide to close the gap. Our line was reinforced by fresher troops and the breach was sealed before more than a few hundred men could escape through it. Rather than give chase to the escaped Prince, we continued the battle and wore the Abbasids down to nothing. No mercy asked and no mercy given.
By the time the afternoon came, eleven thousand and six hundred men laid dead in what would later be called Ravensfeast Valley.
…
"I pity your child, Wolf-Kissed. I don't think he'll ever be able to step out of your shadow after this," I heard Alfric greet me as I overlooked the carnage. The valley was covered in corpses, and there were a handful of my men that were claiming arms and armor, along with whatever wealth they happened to find. All of which would be smelted down into their new armor and weapons by my blacksmiths.
It was a devastating victory by any metric, but not a total one. The Abbasids remained on the island and they still had the numbers to be a threat. My men were utterly spent from a long day of killing, and I was hesitant to press the advantage.
"I'll raise him to reduce me to a footnote," I replied in Germanic.
The Germanic noble hummed in response, "Have you and Princess Astrid considered names?"
"Not yet," I admitted. "Still have some time for it," about four months, based on what the midwives claimed. "Hopefully we'll be back in time to welcome my child into the world." It felt a little strange to speak of a new life before a field of fresh corpses, but it was on my mind. I wanted to raid up and down the Abbasid territory -- Acre, Tyre, Alexandria, Tripoli, Beirut, and Antioch. Perhaps even further inland. Sacking the cities would provide all the wealth I would need to pay my men, and fill Norland with trade goods.
However, before that, there were other matters. "Our losses?"
"A hundred men dead, and another four hundred wounded, but most of them will be able to fight again in a month or two." Alfric answered and my lips thinned. Between my raids and the various skirmishes, I had four hundred men dead with seven hundred wounded. Of that seven hundred, three hundred were crippled in some capacity -- a missing hand, weak limbs, or the loss of an eye. The losses were rather great in comparison, especially when considering our foe, but I needed my men more than the Abbasids needed theirs.
"I might be sending Garald back sooner than I thought," I muttered under my breath. It was tempting to recruit from the locals -- the Abbasids, and the Romans, but those men would not be sailing back with me. I wanted my mercenary company to be my army. The one that I would use to claim Denmark when the time was right. I could really use another three thousand men at the moment.
Even if it came with some risks, I thought to myself, True Vision marking one of the men that collected steel to melt down as red. The very same spy that I had noticed when they all sailed in.
I had no time to dwell on it as I saw Hoffer racing towards us on a horse, his face pale and alarmed. I tensed, bracing myself for the worst, as I turned to greet him. "Wolf-Kissed -- our ships! Those mad bastards burned our ships!" Hoffer growled, fury in his eyes as I looked beyond him. In the distance, it did seem like there was smoke rising up to the sky.
"That bastard," I muttered, knowing exactly which bastard I was speaking of. I wasn't sure if I was impressed or furious. "How many? What happened?"
"The group that escaped went straight to their settlement, but a detachment broke off. They found fifteen of our ships on the coast, slaughtered the guard, and burnt them." Hoffer informed and I scratched at my cheek, feeling the dried blood chipping under my fingernails.
That was annoying. Crete didn't have forests for me to rebuild the lost ships. The ships were there to take advantage of our maneuverability, seeing as the Abbasids lacked much in the way of a navy or horses. They went around the long way to avoid sailing by the Abbasid settlement to deliver my army to me. Nordland itself was guarded by wounded men and Romans.
The loss of fifteen ships stung. It wasn't a crippling loss, but it was a very unwelcome inconvenience.
"The men besieging Norland?" I questioned, mulling over the issue. Four thousand men had been left in their settlement while two thousand men had been left behind at Nordland to maintain the siege. An effort to prevent the defenders joining me, unaware that my men had already set sail.
"Still there. We killed a messenger recalling them, we think," Hoffer informed. Two thousand men. After a week of silence from their Prince, they must suspect something.
"We repay the loss of our ships with more blood. Give me a thousand men, fresh as we have, and I'll crush them at our gates," I decided, sending one last glance at the valley of corpses and the one enemy left within. Looking away, I clapped Alfric on the shoulder, leaving a bloody handprint on his tunic. "We'll see them off the island. Then we rest… and then, we raid."
…
Words to describe the disaster that they faced didn't exist, Hadi was certain. A month ago, they had arrived on the island with more than twenty thousand men, and now they were reduced to a mere four thousand and six hundred. They found themselves outnumbered and the last scraps of their army…
"The Pagan got to them first," Hadi informed the rather empty hall that had once housed all the leaders of the great army. Now, it was just Hadi, Yahya, and Prince Harun himself. Of all the nobility that could have survived, Emir Muhammad still lived, just grievously wounded. The scrap of parchment relayed the message that his last remaining scouts delivered, and Hadi found the walls of the settlement to be of little comfort. Not when Siegfried had already proven that he could breach them. The settlement itself was in a state of ruin, still recovering from the fire.
Prince Harun slammed a fist upon the table, restrained fury etched into his expression. "Any survivors?"
"... None. He is aware that he can't afford them," Hadi said, falling heavily into a chair. He was tired. Exhausted. Utterly spent and he just wanted to sleep.
He would never walk in a crowd again, Hadi knew. He would never forget the crushing sensation of so many bodies pressed together. Sending Naeem and Zafir here had been the greatest idea he ever had because it was nothing short of a miracle that he managed to get the Prince out of the encirclement. Their only chance had been to wait until the line got thin enough and make a push in a single direction with a concentrated force.
"A single mistake, Sheikh Hadi. You once told me that a single mistake was all I needed to make to be defeated. What mistake has been my undoing?" Prince Harun questioned and Hadi closed his eyes.
"We stepped foot on this damned island," Hadi replied and his sincere answer earned a feeble dark chuckle from Yahya.
The advisor to the Prince inclined his head to Hadi, "A mistake we must rectify, I fear. We have ten ships and four thousand men -- I say we make use of both and sail back to Acre, my Prince." Yahya was suddenly a lot more tolerable in Hadi's mind, he decided. "We find ourselves outnumbered and while Sheikh Hadi burning the ships was a welcomed boon, the Pagan does have more. We can find ourselves under assault from land and sea."
"Sheikh Hadi?" Prince Harun turned to him and Hadi considered their position for a moment. There was… one possible path on which they could secure victory.
They did have some advantages. Siegfried and his men were tired after killing thousands of men. They were exhausted, injured, and out of position. They had comparable numbers and, the very last thing that the pagans would expect after that massacre would be an offensive. If they marched out and gave battle… Hadi gave it decent odds that they could win. They may not kill Siegfried, but they could crush his spent army.
"Lord Yahya speaks wisdom, my prince," Hadi said instead. He wanted off this damn island. He wanted away from that damn Pagan. He wanted a soft bed. He wanted wine and good food. He wanted a clever whore in his lap that would make him forget all about this horror.
Prince Harun bit his lip, and despite himself, Hadi understood. This was going to be a disaster that would leave its mark upon his reputation for the rest of his life. And it wasn't his fault. Siegfried was simply a monster put on the Earth to punish them, himself in particular, Hadi felt. But no one would believe it, regardless of how true it might be. And, for a moment, Hadi feared that Prince Harun would choose death over disgrace. Which was his choice to make, so long as Hadi didn't die with him. However, he offered a shallow nod, "We depart. Now."
Hadi couldn't even hide his relief.
Preparations to depart began immediately, and after such a crushing defeat, people were eager to leave. It was dusk by the time the ships were loaded, and it was only upon the advice of Zafir that they delayed heading out into the night. Something that likely saved them as a storm came during it that continued on until the next day. At noon the next day, they finally loaded up on the ships before setting sail.
The mood was abysmal. Hadi figured it likely couldn't be lower even if Siegfried did give chase to them. There were angry mutterings, but Hadi was able to check them with a gentle word here and there. All to make Siegfried the target of their anger rather than Prince Harun. If it worked, Hadi couldn't say. But, hopefully, four thousand men repeating the same tale would lessen the impact on the Prince.
They made the same trek that they did before, sailing throughout the day before slowing during the night. It was at noon the next day that Hadi saw the familiar port of Acre. They were in the homeward stretch, Hadi could feel. So close to casting off his responsibilities. The invasion was a thorough failure, and if he was lucky, he could take most of the blame. Prince Harun would forestall any execution, while Hadi would be so disgraced that he would never be expected to fight in a battle again.
The landed, the flagship sailing into port first, and Hadi saw a crowd waiting to greet them. Hadi stood to the left of Prince Harun, and he saw his face tighten -- the city of Acre was ignorant of their defeat. They were greeted with roaring cheers as they made landfall, and Hadi found himself hoisted up alongside the prince as they were being carried towards the keep. They were treated as returning conquers, and despite himself, shame pooled in his stomach.
He could only imagine how Prince Harun felt. Especially when they made their way to the keep. It was an old fortress -- if tales were to be believed, it had stood since the days of Alexander the Great. It certainly looked it, though the walls showed signs of being refurbished. Inside was large room, one made for fighting, but it served as a welcome room when Princess Jasmine awaited them.
"Brother! You have returned!" Jasmine announced, sounding delighted. Hadi, however, found his attention drifting to something else entirely as the family reunion happened. Trailing behind Jasmine was a tiger. Large, around the height of a pony, but longer, with coiled muscle underneath striped orange fur. And it looked at Jasmine much like a common house cat might -- with affection and mild annoyance in equal measures. It wasn't even on a leash.
"I have, sweet sister. Though I wish I could return as a victor. The truth of it is far harsher -- I have been defeated," Prince Harun informed in a low voice and Hadi saw the joy melt away from Jasmine's veiled face. She stilled, standing before her brother and Hadi could practically see her mind racing.
"The ten ships…?"
"All that is left of the fleet and my army," Prince Harun confirmed quietly. They were hardly alone in the room -- attendants and servants, people of note like the Mayor to the city. Hadi saw the effect that the words had on them. The air of triumph gave way to shock and fear. "I too would be dead if it wasn't for the bravery of Sheikh Hadi. He saved my life more times than I care to count."
Well… at least his efforts were appreciated, Hadi thought as Jasmine's dark eyes flickered to him. Before she could speak, Prince Harun continued. "Father must be informed -- he expects our arrival in Anatolia any day now." Right. That was a problem, wasn't it?
"What do you intend to do, brother?" Jasmine questioned, reaching out to grip Prince Harun's hands tightly.
"I shall recruit to replenish our numbers from the surrounding area, but we shall head straight into Anatolia from there to reinforce father. With some luck, the Pagan will stay on his island and lick his wounds-" Prince Harun started, only for a messenger to enter the hallway and rush to Prince Harun's side, whispering in his ear.
Prince Harun gave no reaction until the messenger pulled away. Then he closed his eyes and… resignation. That's the word Hadi would use to describe his expression.
"Oh. Fuck. He followed us, didn't he?" Hadi heard himself say, any thought of diplomacy fleeing out of his head much like Hadi wished to flee the city.
Prince Harun opened his eyes and regarded Hadi with dark amusement, "Followed you, I suspect. You did burn his ships," Prince Harun pointed out and that was a truly blood-curdling thought. He had just wanted to make sure they didn't attack the settlement with them while he was in it! "You didn't burn enough, it would seem. Fifty of the Pagan's ships are sailing our way."
Well…
"Fuck."
...
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- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
No breaks for Hadi.
Pro tip: there will be no siege.
Pro tip: there will be no siege.
The insert characters and the harem continue to be the oddest part of the story. Seeing princess Jasmine just wholy lifted from disney is just bizzare against the historic fantasy of the bulk of the story. I know it's there to serve the harem wish fulfilment and the waifu catalogue fetish, and I'll confess I enjoy that stuff, but I think Ideas-Guy can make the jump to original fiction if he wants to.
It's a bit misguided to criticize this story for it's basic premise, so I guess I'm just shouting at clouds. I continue to enjoy the action and drama.
I hope Hadi's suffering continues until he is forced to seize power over some number of nations. It's very fun.
It's a bit misguided to criticize this story for it's basic premise, so I guess I'm just shouting at clouds. I continue to enjoy the action and drama.
I hope Hadi's suffering continues until he is forced to seize power over some number of nations. It's very fun.
This isn't Disney's Jasmine yes she is inspired by that one but this is a fantastical historical novel.
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
Based on Charlemagne and other names, the current Abbasid Caliph is Al-Mahdi, which lines up with having a son named Hadi as well as the time frame (roughly 780ish). I don't actually speak Arabic or Farsi, so I have no idea if any of his daughters were named "Jasmine" (quick Google translate says "Yasmin" or "Alyasamin") but he did have like 20 kids so it's not outside the realm of possibility.
en.m.wikipedia.org
Edit: he did have a daughter named Aliyah, which could possibly be the Jasmine here in the story, maybe? I need a culture and language expert to confirm one way or another because that is not my area, time period, language, or cultural heritage.
al-Mahdi - Wikipedia
Edit: he did have a daughter named Aliyah, which could possibly be the Jasmine here in the story, maybe? I need a culture and language expert to confirm one way or another because that is not my area, time period, language, or cultural heritage.
Last edited:
Danegeld
- Location
- USA
The battle was a fierce one, but Acre still fell to us in little time. And not wholly because we managed to overcome the defenders. I felt it in my bones that Hadi, the commander that had proven to be a thorn in my side since this war began, was behind it. They contested our landing, drew what blood that they could, before large swathes of the defenders fell back to the citadel.
The citadel itself was not overly impressive, but that stemmed mostly because of how old it was. I did feel a thrill of excitement, knowing that Alexander the Great had once besieged the same citadel however. Though, it hadn't been guarded by three thousand men who had run out of places to run then. They were in a corner, their backs against the wall, and they knew they had to fight or die.
I didn't relish the prospect of battle here. We would take it, I knew, but there would be a blood cost that I wasn't sure I wanted to pay. I had already lost a number of men, more were wounded, and I wanted to plunder the unprepared coast after this.
So, I gazed out at the gates of the citadel, the high stone walls and thick iron gate acting as a barrier. The walls were lined with men, all armed with bows. I could probably take the walls with minimal issue -- it wasn't that different from a normal assault on a city. I would secure a foothold on the walls, and then my men would concentrate the attack there. The citadel itself, however, posed a challenge. It was a sizable castle, and I knew that the narrow halls would be packed with men. It would be a long grinding battle, even with me leading the way. And I expected Hadi to do something to sour the victory.
As I pondered the issue, out of the corner of my expanded vision, I saw Thorkell approach. "The new ones are obeying the rules," he informed me, and I knew behind me the sacking of Acre was already underway. "They're a bunch of fanatics but… well, they're treating your word like it comes from the gods themselves." My lips thinned ever so slightly but I shrugged.
"So long as they listen, I suppose," I replied lamely, knowing that it was going to be an issue eventually. The gods favored me, but I imagine that could change if I started to claim that I was one of them. "We can't afford to lose the men to disciplinary measures." The newer recruits were trained in our ways, but it would take more than a month to make our ways instinct. I had feared I would need to flog some men, but so far…
Things were going well. "It is a rich city," Thorkell said, almost hearing my thoughts. He very well might have, given his boon. "Makes men's blood cool when they know there is enough to go around. And when there is more on the horizon."
"I don't like leaving them here. The prince is in that building. Taking him hostage would benefit us greatly," I said, pointing at the citadel. "Towns and cities would open their gates with a blade to the neck of their prince." And I wouldn't have to waste the men taking the walls with force.
Thorkell hummed in agreement, "Aye, I imagine so. Don't like the idea of leaving an army at our backs myself, even reduced as it is. Their commander is a bold warrior. He'd attack Norland while we raided up and down the coast." I agreed with him completely.
"I should have killed him," I sighed. He had earned my respect with the charge outside of the Abbasid settlement, but I had been distracted by Zafir. He was a worthy warrior and I had decided to give him a warrior's death, but I was forced to flee when the rest of the settlement realized where my men and I were. I did feel bad about that -- I had taken his arm, but I didn't manage to take his head, crippling him. Thankfully, it wasn't his sword arm so he could still fight.
Thorkell clapped me on the back, making some of my wounds sting, "I'm sure you'll get the chance soon enough. Come -- let's see the haul," Thorkell coaxed and I was admittedly curious to see the treasures of this city. My gaze lingered on the citadel for a moment more before turning around.
There was still some resistance, but it was swiftly being crushed and the looting had begun. People cowered as men entered their homes in groups of five to ten, pillaging it for everything of value. I hadn't ordered it, but I saw that my men had taken to having the inhabitants of a building sit outside under guard while the building was looted. It was a fine addition to the system I had devised.
The goods that were being brought out were both familiar and unfamiliar to me. I saw spices that I did not recognize, even the ones I saw in Constantinople's markets. Other times, I saw tapestries in a different style than any I knew, but still recognizable. There was wine, bolts of fabric, jewelry, coins, and more. All of which was gathered up at the end of each street where it would then be loaded up onto wagons and placed in a single unified pile.
Honestly, it looked less like looting and more like… aggressive tax collecting.
At the docks, where our ships were, the goods were all being compiled. Categorized and divided with a clerk marking down who brought in what. Already, a great pile was building up and I realized we had a problem. "We're going to need more ships," I muttered, feeling a surge of annoyance directed at Hadi once more. He'd burnt my ships. I had worked hard for those ships. I won a war for them!
And he burnt them.
It was entirely justified and fair -- I'm sure Hadi and the prince were quite annoyed with me as well this very moment. For, as many of my men that were currently sacking the city, there were just as many on guard in case they decided to leave that citadel. Still… those were my ships.
"Worse problems to have -- too much loot," Thorkell agreed. "We have some of their ships. Sluggish things, but they have the room. More than we have in our longships."
I hummed, walking forward to inspect some of the goods taken. My gaze went to a pitcher that was engraved with silver and gold, embedded with gemstones. Then to a long row of silk so fine that I could have taken a yard of it and folded it up to fit in my pocket. Then my gaze landed on a blade. "What is that?" I questioned, picking the blade up and inspecting it. It wasn't a practical knife, I quickly decided.
The handle was too heavy -- a dark wood inlaid with silver, gold, and gemstones, which made the balance of the knife very poor. The blade itself was the length of a hand with a gentle curve to it but the richness of the blade wasn't what drew my attention to it. The metal of the blade was familiar to me. A dark smokey color while the steel seemed to ripple like water. I drew an inch of the blade that was at my hip to find that it wasn't quite the same, but it was close.
And that piqued my interest. It was the first time I had seen such steel before and even if the knife was impractical, it still carried a sharp edge.
"That something important? Got a look in your face," Thorkell informed, offering a cheeky smile and I chuckled, sliding the knife into my belt.
"Aye," I agreed, looking out to the docks. "We'll be taking thralls, I think. Craftsmen and artisans," I decided. I would need to search for the source of this metal, but I would find it and find those who could work the steel. The craftsmen would be captured and brought back to Norland and there, they would take apprentices to impart their knowledge. When those apprentices could produce satisfying results, the craftsmen would be freed. And rewarded, if they proved cooperative.
We would bring the wealth back to Norland before setting out. But I disliked the idea of leaving a dagger at my back like this -- Hadi and the Prince had proven to be troublesome foes, and I knew I could not leave them be. I could leave a detachment to keep them inside of the citadel, but it would need to be a sizable one, which would make further raiding more difficult. But better that than to have Hadi and the Prince sail after-
An idea struck me. "We'll seize the ships -- all of them. From warships to fishing boats, I want them," I decided. We would need to take more thralls to row them, but it also meant we could load up more treasures. I could also bait the Prince and Hadi into making a mistake. After all, I doubt that they would expect us to take the ships purely for taking loot.
Thorkell hummed in agreement, looking out at the ships in question. "That'll work. They won't be able to get to Norland unless they swim."
"It'll draw them out of the citadel. They're clever, but I do not know this prince well. When they realize that I am taking their ability to strike back at me, they will act. Either they'll race to secure the ships or to protect their coastline cities. The Prince, however, could try to slip away back to the Abbasid heartland." I ventured, considering the course of action.
Thorkell laughed, "And some men will stay behind to ambush and capture him. I like it," he gave his approval. "How many men are you giving me?" He asked, already knowing that the task would be his.
"How many would you want?" I asked, feeling comfortable with letting him decide.
He seemed to think on it for a moment, scratching up at the scar that nearly took his eye for a moment. "I'd say a hundred. Horses too. But I can't promise anything -- We don't know if the prince is a coward or not. He might leave the coast with his men and abandon it to us. Unlike some, I can't cut through thousands of men and ride off." He said and I nodded, accepting that risk for what it was.
"I know. Only attack if you feel like the odds are in your favor," I instructed. "I'm going to bait Hadi towards Anatolia, raiding the cities that way. I'll make them think I intend to join that front. If the Prince does try to flee, I want you to take him south, towards Hafia, the next coastal city south of Acre. There will be a ship waiting for you there, and I want you to sail back to Norland."
Thorkell nodded, "How goes the war in Anatolia? When Hadi realizes he has been misled, he's not going to try to follow you south. He'll likely continue up towards Anatolia and reinforce the invasion there." To that, I nodded, finding it likely.
However, it wasn't my concern. "I was instructed to hold Crete and stop an invasion coming from there. We have done so. If the Romans are defeated in Anatolia, then that is through their own failings and the will of the gods." Thorkell clapped me on the back, in full agreement.
I had received scarce news from Anatolia, just what trickled in from the traders. The Abbasids had invaded with an army of forty to sixty thousand strong, if rumors could be believed. They moved as a single whole and laid siege to a castle. I had yet to hear of a battle, but I knew that Strategos Tatzates and Michael were mustering an army to crush the Abbasids, far more freely now they did not have to worry about an invasion from the sea. I had no idea how that battle would turn out, nor did I have any expectations.
Even if the Romans lost, my actions should have balanced the scales enough that the war would not be lost. Especially if I were to take highly valuable hostages. My hope was that to inflict enough damage that the Abbasids would quickly sue for peace, win or loss, and I could return to Norland.
"As it should be," Thorkell replied, nodding at me.
I clasped his firearm, "Gods be with you." I told him with a smile, knowing that it would be some time before I saw my friend again.
"They always are," Thorkell replied, clasping my forearm and nodding. With that, he walked away to gather his men. I watched him go, curious on if he would be successful or not. But, no matter what, I fully expected to see my friend again.
…
The next two weeks were a flurry of activity. I took my army and sailed back to Norland, the ships heavy with goods and skilled thralls. The fifteen ships that I lost were replaced with thirty of the much slower Abbasid ships, which turned a single day journey into a day and a half. Once we unloaded everything, taking a day of rest, before I took my men back out to sea heading straight for Tyre. The first town on a string of coastal cities.
I got the reaction that I hoped to get from Hadi, with his men marching up to Tyre in force. The four thousand men had been reinforced with another thousand from Acre, men who likely wanted vengeance. I think he suspected my intention because when I arrived at Tyre, I found that the guard was raised in forewarning.
We still sacked the city, but it was more of a fight than I had expected. And when the battle turned against the defenders, they fled into fortified manor houses. Which, I swiftly learned, had a concentrated amount of wealth where the rich had hoarded it to protect it from me.
That turned into a long day of fighting where I damn near toppled buildings to get at the men inside of them. All the same, we gathered up the wealth, took the skilled tradesmen, then gathered up the ships. Hadi's force, which marched through the night to catch us in the act, arrived just as we were leaving.
It was a slow journey back to Norland, but we arrived without issue. We unloaded the ships heavy with goods, building a fleet of ships that began to line the surrounding shores when we ran out of room at the harbor.
Then, with another day of rest, we sailed to Tripoli. As we did, I scoped out the army that marched to defend the next city and found that it had swelled in size once again. Now it numbered seven thousand. They weren't even slowed by their baggage train, racing to beat me to the next city. And, again, I found that Tripoli had been forewarned about my arrival.
This time, Hadi almost caught up to me. I was forced to burn the ships in Tripoli's harbor rather than sail off with them. We didn't even manage to load up all the loot by the time they reached the gates, and I saw them watching me as I sailed off back to Norland. With a third city sacked, Norland was overflowing with goods, to the point that Jill had taken to constructing dedicated warehouses to hold the thousands of gallons of wine, the miles of velvet and silks, while also finding places for the skilled thralls.
However, it was when we set sail to Antioch that I saw my luck had run out.
"They burnt their ships," Hoffer called out to me, as if I could not see the dark rising plumes of smoke that came from the harbor. I smiled at the sight as I gazed out at the old city of Antioch, nestled against Anatolia. The walls were tall and uninviting, a large chain around the natural harbor from the river we sailed up through. The city itself was located on an island that parted the river.
It was a subtle misdirection, but one that had paid off. By taking their ships for ourselves, I had hoped that it would give the impression that I had a need for them beyond denying them to the Abbasids. After all, I took a great many more ships than I needed. Or could use. Hadi could not see what I was doing with them, so I knew they would assume the worst.
An invasion into their nation, with their own ships delivering Roman soldiers to their shores.
It would be the natural assumption for them, because it was exactly what they intended to do to Rome.
"The men have fight in them, but not enough to take on a reinforced city," Hoffer called out to me, and I knew that was true. We had rested a little on the sea and in Norland, but we were far from our best. We had done too much fighting in too short an amount of time. We had barely recovered when we sailed to Acre, and I only did so because I wanted to avoid this exact scenario across the coast.
"Turn the ships around," I decided. We would not be taking Antioch this day. It was a fine city, and a well defended one. Maybe we could take the town that grew on the opposite bank of the island, but I knew that Hadi would have left little there for us. All the wealth would be concentrated in that island guarded with at least six thousand men, perhaps closer to ten thousand with the locals joining in the defense. "We'll rejoin Thorkell in the south."
Hoffer nodded and blew a horn, signifying the retreat of the army as I stood at the bow of my ship. My vision was washed in gray as I activated True Vision, and it was then that I saw two golden figures standing on the walls through the billowing smoke. Hadi and the Prince, I realized with some annoyance. Hopefully, Thorkell caught some other noble hostages trying to sneak deeper inland.
My lips pursed for a moment, "I'm going to speak to them," I called out to Hoffer, and a brief look of alarm passed over his face. "I want to gain the measure of the men that have been such a pain in my ass," I added, earning a bark of laughter.
"Just don't sail too close, Wolf-Kissed! You've been a bigger pain in theirs!" Hoffer said as the mast unfurled and my ship began to sail forward. I saw a bit of a reaction from the walls as the two golden figures briefly vanished. My disappointment was momentary, thinking that they were fleeing, but they seemed to want words with me as well, because they both emerged closer to the ground.
Neither the Prince nor Hadi seemed to be the breed of men that would give me so much trouble. Both were older than me, not particularly well muscled, tall, nor handsome. They didn't strike me as warriors. Though, that could simply be because they both looked exhausted, and I had my answer how they beat me here.
They must have marched through the night for days on end. Neither of them looked like they had slept in at least two.
My ship slowed to a stop some distance away from the shore. I was within arrow range, but they didn't seem to have any pointed at me. I propped a foot up on the bow of my ship and leaned forward, looking at Hadi and the Prince, who were guarded by other familiar faces such as Zafir. "You burnt my ships," I opened with, looking at Hadi.
He looked like he wanted to cross the waters and strangle me. "You ambushed us," he replied curtly.
"You survived the ambush," I retorted.
"Which one?"
"Both of them." I had hoped to capture the leaders during the chaos of the fireship, but they held themselves together and pressed forward. The fireship, in that regard, was far less effective than I hoped.
"In that case, I was repaying you in kind. Actually, I think you owe us a few more ships," Hadi shot back, glowering at me. It was less impressive with the dark bags under his eyes. "And a few thousand men."
My lips twitched. He might not have the bearing of a warrior, but he had the will of one. "If you wish to collect those heads, I'll be happy to face you on the field of battle," I offered, putting on appearances. My men weren't in the condition for another pitched battle. And, if I was being perfectly honest, I wasn't either.
None of my wounds were severe, but I had done a great deal of bloodletting in the past two weeks. I had picked up injuries here and there, bruises and nicks. My muscles ached, and I felt about as tired as Hadi and the Prince looked.
"That," the Prince spoke for the first time in a soft voice, "very well may happen. We will not allow your entrance to Anitolia," he stated, his voice firm.
I regarded him neutrally. The Prince, I was less certain of. I didn't know him personally, and the only thing I did know was he had the wisdom to listen to Hadi. Which, in all fairness, made him wiser than most. "I have no interest in Anatolia," I admitted, and I saw their eyes narrow in confusion. It didn't matter if they believed me or not. Either way, I had accomplished what I set out to do, even if I would have preferred to sack Antioch for its treasures.
Even better, if they continued onto Anatolia, I could continue to plunder the coast. Either way, I would win regardless of who emerged victorious in Anatolia.
"You expect us to believe that?" The Prince questioned, his tone suspicious.
"I am a mercenary, Prince Harun. My job is already done -- denying you a launch point from Crete. I raid now for my payment," I said, knowing the effects of my words. Either they would believe me, and they would abandon Anatolia to reinforce their army in the region. Or, they wouldn't and they would remain, leaving the forty thousand men to fight alone.
If they reinforced the army in Anatolia, and the Romans lost the battle… then my mercenary company became more valuable to the Crown. If the Romans won, then the war would be over and I could return to my studies.
To my faint surprise, a calculating glint entered Prince Harun's dark eyes. "So you have. I have seen the aftermath of your actions. They do you credit. Often, I have heard of the savageness of pagans, yet your men acted with more honor towards my people than I could have expected from any other." I tilted my head at the sudden flattery, but I knew what he was about to do.
"I'm afraid you cannot purchase my warriors, Prince Harun," I interjected. "I swore an oath to fight for the Romans, and I will not betray it. My word is worth more than gold."
That had been the Prince's hope, I saw, but he recovered quickly. "Then I offer a payment to you, Lord Siegfried. In exchange for your returning to Norland and inaction until deliberately ordered otherwise by the Emperor… I offer you knowledge." That was a very interesting thing to offer.
I perked up, betraying my interest in the offer. "What knowledge do you have that I cannot find in Constantinople's university and libraries?"
Prince Harun seemed almost triumphant, "A great deal more. I am also a lover of knowledge and wisdom, Lord Siegfried. For many years, I have imported texts from far off lands and sponsored learned philosophers. On your word that you will not raid my people any further for the duration of this war, I shall share what I have gathered with you." The offer was an intriguing one, I had to admit. I was very curious on what the Abbasids would have…
In the end, my greed won out. "I will make that oath. I cannot swear to you that I will not give battle when ordered by my employers, but I can swear that I will return to Norland and I will not leave Crete until I receive such an order. Even when I do, I swear that I will not raid your people. Cities, however, are spoils of war, but I will treat them with honor." I could tell that it was not entirely the oath he wanted, but it was the best that he could expect given the circumstances.
What he really wanted, I knew, was to keep me out of the war while he went to reinforce his father. And with this deal, he got that.
"I accept your oath, Lord Seigfried. Upon the conclusion of hostilities between the Abbasids and Rome, I will send the first shipment of texts and translators for them. Now, leave my shores," Prince Harun instructed.
I inclined my head to him, giving the word to set sail, feeling richer already.
...
Since it's come up, and I thought it was more common knowledge -- Aladdin was heavily inspired by A Thousand and One Nights collection of poems. The poems, in turn, were inspired by historical figures. The relationships were shifted around a bit, but the core characters are still mostly the same. Jafar in Aladdin was Jaʽfar ibn Yahya, who pretty much inspired all the tropes about the secretly ambitious vizir tropes. The Sultun is implied to be Harun al-Rashid, but that one is more up in the air. What Aladdin did use was Harun's reported love for one of his sisters, who became Jasmine in the movie.
The next chapter is currently available on my Patreon and Subscribe Star, so if you want to read it a week early, all it takes is a single dollar in the tip jar. Or, for five dollars, you can read the chapter after that two weeks before its public release! I hope you enjoyed!
The citadel itself was not overly impressive, but that stemmed mostly because of how old it was. I did feel a thrill of excitement, knowing that Alexander the Great had once besieged the same citadel however. Though, it hadn't been guarded by three thousand men who had run out of places to run then. They were in a corner, their backs against the wall, and they knew they had to fight or die.
I didn't relish the prospect of battle here. We would take it, I knew, but there would be a blood cost that I wasn't sure I wanted to pay. I had already lost a number of men, more were wounded, and I wanted to plunder the unprepared coast after this.
So, I gazed out at the gates of the citadel, the high stone walls and thick iron gate acting as a barrier. The walls were lined with men, all armed with bows. I could probably take the walls with minimal issue -- it wasn't that different from a normal assault on a city. I would secure a foothold on the walls, and then my men would concentrate the attack there. The citadel itself, however, posed a challenge. It was a sizable castle, and I knew that the narrow halls would be packed with men. It would be a long grinding battle, even with me leading the way. And I expected Hadi to do something to sour the victory.
As I pondered the issue, out of the corner of my expanded vision, I saw Thorkell approach. "The new ones are obeying the rules," he informed me, and I knew behind me the sacking of Acre was already underway. "They're a bunch of fanatics but… well, they're treating your word like it comes from the gods themselves." My lips thinned ever so slightly but I shrugged.
"So long as they listen, I suppose," I replied lamely, knowing that it was going to be an issue eventually. The gods favored me, but I imagine that could change if I started to claim that I was one of them. "We can't afford to lose the men to disciplinary measures." The newer recruits were trained in our ways, but it would take more than a month to make our ways instinct. I had feared I would need to flog some men, but so far…
Things were going well. "It is a rich city," Thorkell said, almost hearing my thoughts. He very well might have, given his boon. "Makes men's blood cool when they know there is enough to go around. And when there is more on the horizon."
"I don't like leaving them here. The prince is in that building. Taking him hostage would benefit us greatly," I said, pointing at the citadel. "Towns and cities would open their gates with a blade to the neck of their prince." And I wouldn't have to waste the men taking the walls with force.
Thorkell hummed in agreement, "Aye, I imagine so. Don't like the idea of leaving an army at our backs myself, even reduced as it is. Their commander is a bold warrior. He'd attack Norland while we raided up and down the coast." I agreed with him completely.
"I should have killed him," I sighed. He had earned my respect with the charge outside of the Abbasid settlement, but I had been distracted by Zafir. He was a worthy warrior and I had decided to give him a warrior's death, but I was forced to flee when the rest of the settlement realized where my men and I were. I did feel bad about that -- I had taken his arm, but I didn't manage to take his head, crippling him. Thankfully, it wasn't his sword arm so he could still fight.
Thorkell clapped me on the back, making some of my wounds sting, "I'm sure you'll get the chance soon enough. Come -- let's see the haul," Thorkell coaxed and I was admittedly curious to see the treasures of this city. My gaze lingered on the citadel for a moment more before turning around.
There was still some resistance, but it was swiftly being crushed and the looting had begun. People cowered as men entered their homes in groups of five to ten, pillaging it for everything of value. I hadn't ordered it, but I saw that my men had taken to having the inhabitants of a building sit outside under guard while the building was looted. It was a fine addition to the system I had devised.
The goods that were being brought out were both familiar and unfamiliar to me. I saw spices that I did not recognize, even the ones I saw in Constantinople's markets. Other times, I saw tapestries in a different style than any I knew, but still recognizable. There was wine, bolts of fabric, jewelry, coins, and more. All of which was gathered up at the end of each street where it would then be loaded up onto wagons and placed in a single unified pile.
Honestly, it looked less like looting and more like… aggressive tax collecting.
At the docks, where our ships were, the goods were all being compiled. Categorized and divided with a clerk marking down who brought in what. Already, a great pile was building up and I realized we had a problem. "We're going to need more ships," I muttered, feeling a surge of annoyance directed at Hadi once more. He'd burnt my ships. I had worked hard for those ships. I won a war for them!
And he burnt them.
It was entirely justified and fair -- I'm sure Hadi and the prince were quite annoyed with me as well this very moment. For, as many of my men that were currently sacking the city, there were just as many on guard in case they decided to leave that citadel. Still… those were my ships.
"Worse problems to have -- too much loot," Thorkell agreed. "We have some of their ships. Sluggish things, but they have the room. More than we have in our longships."
I hummed, walking forward to inspect some of the goods taken. My gaze went to a pitcher that was engraved with silver and gold, embedded with gemstones. Then to a long row of silk so fine that I could have taken a yard of it and folded it up to fit in my pocket. Then my gaze landed on a blade. "What is that?" I questioned, picking the blade up and inspecting it. It wasn't a practical knife, I quickly decided.
The handle was too heavy -- a dark wood inlaid with silver, gold, and gemstones, which made the balance of the knife very poor. The blade itself was the length of a hand with a gentle curve to it but the richness of the blade wasn't what drew my attention to it. The metal of the blade was familiar to me. A dark smokey color while the steel seemed to ripple like water. I drew an inch of the blade that was at my hip to find that it wasn't quite the same, but it was close.
And that piqued my interest. It was the first time I had seen such steel before and even if the knife was impractical, it still carried a sharp edge.
"That something important? Got a look in your face," Thorkell informed, offering a cheeky smile and I chuckled, sliding the knife into my belt.
"Aye," I agreed, looking out to the docks. "We'll be taking thralls, I think. Craftsmen and artisans," I decided. I would need to search for the source of this metal, but I would find it and find those who could work the steel. The craftsmen would be captured and brought back to Norland and there, they would take apprentices to impart their knowledge. When those apprentices could produce satisfying results, the craftsmen would be freed. And rewarded, if they proved cooperative.
We would bring the wealth back to Norland before setting out. But I disliked the idea of leaving a dagger at my back like this -- Hadi and the Prince had proven to be troublesome foes, and I knew I could not leave them be. I could leave a detachment to keep them inside of the citadel, but it would need to be a sizable one, which would make further raiding more difficult. But better that than to have Hadi and the Prince sail after-
An idea struck me. "We'll seize the ships -- all of them. From warships to fishing boats, I want them," I decided. We would need to take more thralls to row them, but it also meant we could load up more treasures. I could also bait the Prince and Hadi into making a mistake. After all, I doubt that they would expect us to take the ships purely for taking loot.
Thorkell hummed in agreement, looking out at the ships in question. "That'll work. They won't be able to get to Norland unless they swim."
"It'll draw them out of the citadel. They're clever, but I do not know this prince well. When they realize that I am taking their ability to strike back at me, they will act. Either they'll race to secure the ships or to protect their coastline cities. The Prince, however, could try to slip away back to the Abbasid heartland." I ventured, considering the course of action.
Thorkell laughed, "And some men will stay behind to ambush and capture him. I like it," he gave his approval. "How many men are you giving me?" He asked, already knowing that the task would be his.
"How many would you want?" I asked, feeling comfortable with letting him decide.
He seemed to think on it for a moment, scratching up at the scar that nearly took his eye for a moment. "I'd say a hundred. Horses too. But I can't promise anything -- We don't know if the prince is a coward or not. He might leave the coast with his men and abandon it to us. Unlike some, I can't cut through thousands of men and ride off." He said and I nodded, accepting that risk for what it was.
"I know. Only attack if you feel like the odds are in your favor," I instructed. "I'm going to bait Hadi towards Anatolia, raiding the cities that way. I'll make them think I intend to join that front. If the Prince does try to flee, I want you to take him south, towards Hafia, the next coastal city south of Acre. There will be a ship waiting for you there, and I want you to sail back to Norland."
Thorkell nodded, "How goes the war in Anatolia? When Hadi realizes he has been misled, he's not going to try to follow you south. He'll likely continue up towards Anatolia and reinforce the invasion there." To that, I nodded, finding it likely.
However, it wasn't my concern. "I was instructed to hold Crete and stop an invasion coming from there. We have done so. If the Romans are defeated in Anatolia, then that is through their own failings and the will of the gods." Thorkell clapped me on the back, in full agreement.
I had received scarce news from Anatolia, just what trickled in from the traders. The Abbasids had invaded with an army of forty to sixty thousand strong, if rumors could be believed. They moved as a single whole and laid siege to a castle. I had yet to hear of a battle, but I knew that Strategos Tatzates and Michael were mustering an army to crush the Abbasids, far more freely now they did not have to worry about an invasion from the sea. I had no idea how that battle would turn out, nor did I have any expectations.
Even if the Romans lost, my actions should have balanced the scales enough that the war would not be lost. Especially if I were to take highly valuable hostages. My hope was that to inflict enough damage that the Abbasids would quickly sue for peace, win or loss, and I could return to Norland.
"As it should be," Thorkell replied, nodding at me.
I clasped his firearm, "Gods be with you." I told him with a smile, knowing that it would be some time before I saw my friend again.
"They always are," Thorkell replied, clasping my forearm and nodding. With that, he walked away to gather his men. I watched him go, curious on if he would be successful or not. But, no matter what, I fully expected to see my friend again.
…
The next two weeks were a flurry of activity. I took my army and sailed back to Norland, the ships heavy with goods and skilled thralls. The fifteen ships that I lost were replaced with thirty of the much slower Abbasid ships, which turned a single day journey into a day and a half. Once we unloaded everything, taking a day of rest, before I took my men back out to sea heading straight for Tyre. The first town on a string of coastal cities.
I got the reaction that I hoped to get from Hadi, with his men marching up to Tyre in force. The four thousand men had been reinforced with another thousand from Acre, men who likely wanted vengeance. I think he suspected my intention because when I arrived at Tyre, I found that the guard was raised in forewarning.
We still sacked the city, but it was more of a fight than I had expected. And when the battle turned against the defenders, they fled into fortified manor houses. Which, I swiftly learned, had a concentrated amount of wealth where the rich had hoarded it to protect it from me.
That turned into a long day of fighting where I damn near toppled buildings to get at the men inside of them. All the same, we gathered up the wealth, took the skilled tradesmen, then gathered up the ships. Hadi's force, which marched through the night to catch us in the act, arrived just as we were leaving.
It was a slow journey back to Norland, but we arrived without issue. We unloaded the ships heavy with goods, building a fleet of ships that began to line the surrounding shores when we ran out of room at the harbor.
Then, with another day of rest, we sailed to Tripoli. As we did, I scoped out the army that marched to defend the next city and found that it had swelled in size once again. Now it numbered seven thousand. They weren't even slowed by their baggage train, racing to beat me to the next city. And, again, I found that Tripoli had been forewarned about my arrival.
This time, Hadi almost caught up to me. I was forced to burn the ships in Tripoli's harbor rather than sail off with them. We didn't even manage to load up all the loot by the time they reached the gates, and I saw them watching me as I sailed off back to Norland. With a third city sacked, Norland was overflowing with goods, to the point that Jill had taken to constructing dedicated warehouses to hold the thousands of gallons of wine, the miles of velvet and silks, while also finding places for the skilled thralls.
However, it was when we set sail to Antioch that I saw my luck had run out.
"They burnt their ships," Hoffer called out to me, as if I could not see the dark rising plumes of smoke that came from the harbor. I smiled at the sight as I gazed out at the old city of Antioch, nestled against Anatolia. The walls were tall and uninviting, a large chain around the natural harbor from the river we sailed up through. The city itself was located on an island that parted the river.
It was a subtle misdirection, but one that had paid off. By taking their ships for ourselves, I had hoped that it would give the impression that I had a need for them beyond denying them to the Abbasids. After all, I took a great many more ships than I needed. Or could use. Hadi could not see what I was doing with them, so I knew they would assume the worst.
An invasion into their nation, with their own ships delivering Roman soldiers to their shores.
It would be the natural assumption for them, because it was exactly what they intended to do to Rome.
"The men have fight in them, but not enough to take on a reinforced city," Hoffer called out to me, and I knew that was true. We had rested a little on the sea and in Norland, but we were far from our best. We had done too much fighting in too short an amount of time. We had barely recovered when we sailed to Acre, and I only did so because I wanted to avoid this exact scenario across the coast.
"Turn the ships around," I decided. We would not be taking Antioch this day. It was a fine city, and a well defended one. Maybe we could take the town that grew on the opposite bank of the island, but I knew that Hadi would have left little there for us. All the wealth would be concentrated in that island guarded with at least six thousand men, perhaps closer to ten thousand with the locals joining in the defense. "We'll rejoin Thorkell in the south."
Hoffer nodded and blew a horn, signifying the retreat of the army as I stood at the bow of my ship. My vision was washed in gray as I activated True Vision, and it was then that I saw two golden figures standing on the walls through the billowing smoke. Hadi and the Prince, I realized with some annoyance. Hopefully, Thorkell caught some other noble hostages trying to sneak deeper inland.
My lips pursed for a moment, "I'm going to speak to them," I called out to Hoffer, and a brief look of alarm passed over his face. "I want to gain the measure of the men that have been such a pain in my ass," I added, earning a bark of laughter.
"Just don't sail too close, Wolf-Kissed! You've been a bigger pain in theirs!" Hoffer said as the mast unfurled and my ship began to sail forward. I saw a bit of a reaction from the walls as the two golden figures briefly vanished. My disappointment was momentary, thinking that they were fleeing, but they seemed to want words with me as well, because they both emerged closer to the ground.
Neither the Prince nor Hadi seemed to be the breed of men that would give me so much trouble. Both were older than me, not particularly well muscled, tall, nor handsome. They didn't strike me as warriors. Though, that could simply be because they both looked exhausted, and I had my answer how they beat me here.
They must have marched through the night for days on end. Neither of them looked like they had slept in at least two.
My ship slowed to a stop some distance away from the shore. I was within arrow range, but they didn't seem to have any pointed at me. I propped a foot up on the bow of my ship and leaned forward, looking at Hadi and the Prince, who were guarded by other familiar faces such as Zafir. "You burnt my ships," I opened with, looking at Hadi.
He looked like he wanted to cross the waters and strangle me. "You ambushed us," he replied curtly.
"You survived the ambush," I retorted.
"Which one?"
"Both of them." I had hoped to capture the leaders during the chaos of the fireship, but they held themselves together and pressed forward. The fireship, in that regard, was far less effective than I hoped.
"In that case, I was repaying you in kind. Actually, I think you owe us a few more ships," Hadi shot back, glowering at me. It was less impressive with the dark bags under his eyes. "And a few thousand men."
My lips twitched. He might not have the bearing of a warrior, but he had the will of one. "If you wish to collect those heads, I'll be happy to face you on the field of battle," I offered, putting on appearances. My men weren't in the condition for another pitched battle. And, if I was being perfectly honest, I wasn't either.
None of my wounds were severe, but I had done a great deal of bloodletting in the past two weeks. I had picked up injuries here and there, bruises and nicks. My muscles ached, and I felt about as tired as Hadi and the Prince looked.
"That," the Prince spoke for the first time in a soft voice, "very well may happen. We will not allow your entrance to Anitolia," he stated, his voice firm.
I regarded him neutrally. The Prince, I was less certain of. I didn't know him personally, and the only thing I did know was he had the wisdom to listen to Hadi. Which, in all fairness, made him wiser than most. "I have no interest in Anatolia," I admitted, and I saw their eyes narrow in confusion. It didn't matter if they believed me or not. Either way, I had accomplished what I set out to do, even if I would have preferred to sack Antioch for its treasures.
Even better, if they continued onto Anatolia, I could continue to plunder the coast. Either way, I would win regardless of who emerged victorious in Anatolia.
"You expect us to believe that?" The Prince questioned, his tone suspicious.
"I am a mercenary, Prince Harun. My job is already done -- denying you a launch point from Crete. I raid now for my payment," I said, knowing the effects of my words. Either they would believe me, and they would abandon Anatolia to reinforce their army in the region. Or, they wouldn't and they would remain, leaving the forty thousand men to fight alone.
If they reinforced the army in Anatolia, and the Romans lost the battle… then my mercenary company became more valuable to the Crown. If the Romans won, then the war would be over and I could return to my studies.
To my faint surprise, a calculating glint entered Prince Harun's dark eyes. "So you have. I have seen the aftermath of your actions. They do you credit. Often, I have heard of the savageness of pagans, yet your men acted with more honor towards my people than I could have expected from any other." I tilted my head at the sudden flattery, but I knew what he was about to do.
"I'm afraid you cannot purchase my warriors, Prince Harun," I interjected. "I swore an oath to fight for the Romans, and I will not betray it. My word is worth more than gold."
That had been the Prince's hope, I saw, but he recovered quickly. "Then I offer a payment to you, Lord Siegfried. In exchange for your returning to Norland and inaction until deliberately ordered otherwise by the Emperor… I offer you knowledge." That was a very interesting thing to offer.
I perked up, betraying my interest in the offer. "What knowledge do you have that I cannot find in Constantinople's university and libraries?"
Prince Harun seemed almost triumphant, "A great deal more. I am also a lover of knowledge and wisdom, Lord Siegfried. For many years, I have imported texts from far off lands and sponsored learned philosophers. On your word that you will not raid my people any further for the duration of this war, I shall share what I have gathered with you." The offer was an intriguing one, I had to admit. I was very curious on what the Abbasids would have…
In the end, my greed won out. "I will make that oath. I cannot swear to you that I will not give battle when ordered by my employers, but I can swear that I will return to Norland and I will not leave Crete until I receive such an order. Even when I do, I swear that I will not raid your people. Cities, however, are spoils of war, but I will treat them with honor." I could tell that it was not entirely the oath he wanted, but it was the best that he could expect given the circumstances.
What he really wanted, I knew, was to keep me out of the war while he went to reinforce his father. And with this deal, he got that.
"I accept your oath, Lord Seigfried. Upon the conclusion of hostilities between the Abbasids and Rome, I will send the first shipment of texts and translators for them. Now, leave my shores," Prince Harun instructed.
I inclined my head to him, giving the word to set sail, feeling richer already.
...
Since it's come up, and I thought it was more common knowledge -- Aladdin was heavily inspired by A Thousand and One Nights collection of poems. The poems, in turn, were inspired by historical figures. The relationships were shifted around a bit, but the core characters are still mostly the same. Jafar in Aladdin was Jaʽfar ibn Yahya, who pretty much inspired all the tropes about the secretly ambitious vizir tropes. The Sultun is implied to be Harun al-Rashid, but that one is more up in the air. What Aladdin did use was Harun's reported love for one of his sisters, who became Jasmine in the movie.
The next chapter is currently available on my Patreon and Subscribe Star, so if you want to read it a week early, all it takes is a single dollar in the tip jar. Or, for five dollars, you can read the chapter after that two weeks before its public release! I hope you enjoyed!
That's cool! I knew it was related to A Thousand and One Nights, but I didn't know about the historic characters the poems were based on.
Falling action this chapter. Hadi and the Prince continue to be impressive commanders. I'm expecting the Romans to fumble the ball here, but I suppose it's up in the air. Looking forward to Siegfried counting the spoils and continuing his studies.
Another incredible chapter!
Siegfried took everything not nailed down in those cities and their ships too!
Now he is even richer and has an even bigger fleet!
Interesting. Looks like Siegfried is coming closer to figure out the secrets of his sword.
Is that Damascus Steel? Having that would be really good for Siegfried and his army.
Well, Thorkell will not catch the Prince, but he will catch a Princess. Looks like Siegfried can't escape the curse of the protagonist, all the difficult love interests will always follow him everywere he goes.
And another great deal for Siegfried, now not only he gets all the knowledge of the Roman universities but also that of the Abbasids!
Now he will have access to knowledge from distant and exotic lands, and be able to learn even more new things!
I can't wait, the war is been interesting to read abaout but i really want to see the return of Siegfried the Scholar.
Siegfried took everything not nailed down in those cities and their ships too!
Now he is even richer and has an even bigger fleet!
Interesting. Looks like Siegfried is coming closer to figure out the secrets of his sword.
Is that Damascus Steel? Having that would be really good for Siegfried and his army.
Well, Thorkell will not catch the Prince, but he will catch a Princess. Looks like Siegfried can't escape the curse of the protagonist, all the difficult love interests will always follow him everywere he goes.
And another great deal for Siegfried, now not only he gets all the knowledge of the Roman universities but also that of the Abbasids!
Now he will have access to knowledge from distant and exotic lands, and be able to learn even more new things!
I can't wait, the war is been interesting to read abaout but i really want to see the return of Siegfried the Scholar.
Fried_Chicken
CRISPY, Terrific, EXCELLENT, Yummy, and DELICIOUS.
- Location
- An oven near you today!
Me too! And also excited for ruler!Siegfried. War and conquest are cool and all, but sometimes it is just so much more satisfying seeing someone grow themselves and their domain.
Eyes on the Prize
- Location
- USA
Without boats filled with treasure, the sail back to Norland was relatively quick even with the much slower Abbasid ships. After a quick day of sailing, we arrived at the docks to cheering applause that didn't diminish even when they learned that we came back empty handed. That, I suspected, was because we had already brought back more wealth than most people had ever seen and we could barely store it all as it was.
There was also a collective air of relief that we were done with the war. It had been a time of stress because of the army of nearly twenty five thousand men prowling at our borders. The battle fatigue built up -- first with dozens of small battles, then a large one, and no sooner than we had won that, we assaulted several cities. The spoils were a fine reward, but that exhaustion still built up all the same.
I certainly felt it as I made my way up to the longhouse, content to leave Norland to rejoice while I got a handle on things. I had just decided to do it in comfort, which was how I found myself sinking into a brass tube that we had taken from the Abbasids, which was filled with steaming hot water. A low sigh escaped me as I sank up to my chin, dozens of wounds stinging from the heat, but my muscles relaxed for the first time in weeks.
"Has Thorkell returned?" I asked, closing my eyes before I felt hands weave into my hair, undoing the braid that I kept it in. Based on the softness of her fingers, I knew it was Jill.
"Not yet," Jill answered, combing her fingers through my hair, wetting it. "The scout ships you left us have seen some activity from the Abbasids -- they're guarding the coast. That could be why he hasn't come back yet," Jill offered and I opened my eyes to see the wooden bath house that was attached to the longhouse. The brass tub was a new addition, but there were several wooden ones.
I wasn't exactly concerned, but I was starting to move in that direction. I had thought that Thorkell would have arrived before me. It had been two weeks and he hadn't sailed back. Had it been a mistake to leave him in enemy territory? Would I even know if he had perished? "Prince Harun and Hadi anticipated an invasion from the sea. They must have sent a message to the towns south of Acre." I mused, considering a course of action.
I would give it a few more days before I would set sail to Acre to see if I could track down Thorkell. I wouldn't raid, and it wouldn't be an attack -- so, it wouldn't be a violation of my oath. It would expose me to attack however. I wouldn't expect the Abbasids to pass up an opportunity to kill me.
"Should we expect another attack?" Jill questioned and I shook my head, sinking deeper into the water.
"They're too out of position to attack Crete and they know it. If they use the ships they have left at all, I'd expect them to sail into Anatolia. Has there been any word?" I asked, curious how the broader war was shaping up.
"Tatzates and Michael are both marching on the Abbasid army with fifty thousand men, but if there has been a battle, word of it hasn't reached us yet." Jill answered and I sighed again. "Jealous?"
"It would be an experience to fight in such a large battle. A hundred thousand men on a single field. Every time I think I've witnessed the largest battle in history, I hear about a larger one," I mused, splashing water on my face. The final battle in Francia was only half as large. "But, we've gained enough. And we are spent."
I thought I heard Jill breathe a sigh of relief behind me. "You've certainly given me enough work," she replied, sounding amused. "I was dreading having to find more space for the loot, and doing another count," she teased with a smile in her voice. "The thralls could pose a problem, however. After everything, the Abbasid thralls match us in numbers."
That was a concern. With a thought, I brought up one of my standing quests from the gods.
The wealth I had gained brought me nearly halfway to my target. It almost made me regret my oath, but I knew that it would be worth it in the end. My task was to turn the wealth that I had collected into what I needed to reach the goal. My military strength, however, had taken a harsh blow. I still had more men than I started with, but over the past month, I had lost over a thousand men. Most would recover from their injuries, but they may not be in a position to continue to fight.
"We'll extend an offer to the thralls -- all but the skilled ones," I corrected myself. "We will put them on a ship to sail back to their homeland. Or, they can remain and learn a trade from the craftsmen. That should split their numbers enough to make them manageable." I decided, already having given the idea some thought. The younger thralls, the ones that had little hope of inheritance or finding a trade, would choose to remain behind. And the craftsmen would be more inclined to share their secrets with their own countrymen.
"Some could become merchants," Jill ventured, following up on my idea. "It would be a shame to scrap the fleet that we gained. They're larger than our ships, so they have more space for goods. I've spoken to our merchants and there are markets beyond the Romans. There are the Umayyad Caliphate to the east, the Bulgars, a small kingdom in the region of Italy… and Francia." To that last one, I snorted.
"I imagine King Charlemagne would be less than pleased to find my ships in one of his harbors," I replied, chuckling. "But the idea is good. It would reduce our reliance on Michalis," I added, finding that I liked the idea. I'm sure many thralls would seek to return home, but I imagine quite a few of them would seek to bring over their families for a better life in Norland if they felt like they had a future here.
"We should make an announcement of it during the feast," Jill decided. "It would soothe some of the bad blood with our new arrivals and give them reason to celebrate instead of stewing in their resentment." To that, I nodded.
A celebration was needed. To honor the gods and thank them for our victories as much as the bounty that we had received. "One of many announcements, I should think," I said, reaching up to her hand as she continued to comb my hair. I gave it a small reassuring squeeze, the meaning behind my words clear.
I was pleased to see that Jill smiled in anticipation. Leaning down, she pressed her lips to my cheek before pulling back. "I shall await the announcement, then. Relax until then. You've more than earned it," she said, kissing me on the cheek again before stepping away to leave me soaking in the water. I smiled faintly, closing my eyes once more as I leaned against the lip of the brass tub.
Now was a time of opportunity, I knew. I had an influx of wealth, skilled craftsmen, ships, and my town was experiencing a population boom. The steps I took now would shape the rest of my stay in the Mediterranean. Now was the time to learn. To make mistakes. To test the ideas that I had when it came to developing a city.
So, as I closed my eyes, I started to envision what I wanted Norland to look like. I pictured marble streets and buildings with clay roofs. I saw a temple to the gods. I saw tall walls. I saw streets of craftsmen -- streets of blacksmiths, weavers, glassmakers, painters, and more. All of them flowing into large markets near the docks that were bustling with ships from all corners of the sea. I would be getting a shipment of foreign knowledge… a library, I thought. A replacement for the Library of Alexandria that would store copies of all that I learned from the Romans and the Abbasids.
And an arena, like the Hippodrome. Or the Colosseum I had read about in texts. I would build bathhouses. And hospices for my warriors that found themselves too injured to continue fighting.
I would need to start training a garrison force, I think. Constantinople had a city watch that patrolled the streets in search of crime -- I had heard they were helplessly corrupt, but I hadn't seen that firsthand. So, I would need to come up with something to stop corruption from taking root. Or, at the very least, make it difficult. It would also be left behind to help manage the city once I left with my army.
My head was full of ideas and I knew a great many of them were too ambitious. But, I needed to try. I needed to learn. I had to discover the best way to build roads. The best kind of houses to build in the much harsher weather in Denmark. Because, in the end, Norland was an experiment.
I must have dozed off in the tub because when one of the servants came to check on me, I awoke to tepid water. Waving off a refill to the tub, I dried myself off and got dressed, finding myself refreshed after the long soak. Jill was busying herself with preparing the feast, with help from Astrid. Choosing to leave them be, I decided to take care of some business before the feast.
Norland, despite the influx of people that were here by force, was in a festive mood. The Romans that had fought with us were celebrating, my warriors were indulging in the riches they'd earned. Odds were, there wouldn't be any work done for days, if not weeks. Which made me sincerely hope that Irene didn't send me a message to continue the fight. My men could use the rest.
Norland, even in the brief time I had been away, had undergone changes. Housing near the docks had been repurposed or rebuilt into warehouses. The second hill that Norland had expanded to was being settled with more organization now that we weren't in a mad rush with an enemy breathing down our necks. Market squares were laid out, and some buildings like taverns or inns were used as cornerstones while the areas around them were filled in as buildings were built.
The blacksmiths were hard at work, and they likely would be for some time. The Abbasid army's arms and armor were all collected and being melted down. There was so much of it that most would end up becoming nails or tools as my warriors provided more than what they needed for a shirt of riveted mail and weapons. The extra hands would help alleviate the strain on the dozen smiths that we brought with us.
My destination was a tavern, where I found who I was looking for. Pushing the door open, I immediately felt myself become the center of attention. Garald, however, raised a toast to me with reverence in his eyes. "The Wolf-Kissed! The Raven-Feeder!" He exclaimed, and I swallowed down my discomfort of how he looked at me.
From the very start, Garald looked at me as if I were a god. Now, he looked at me with even greater fervor… because in his eyes, his faith had been rewarded. There was no shadow of a doubt that he was right to come to me from across the known world. It was in everyone's gazes as I entered the tavern.
"Rest easy. You've all earned it," I said placatingly, but they celebrated it all the same as I made my way to Garald. The seat across from him was offered up and I took it, nodding in his direction.
I didn't feel great about this, I decided. "For now, our part in the war is done but we need to replenish our numbers-"
"I'll leave immediately," Garald said, getting up. In that moment, I knew that it wouldn't matter if I told him to swim to Denmark. He'd get there or die trying. However, I stopped him with a hand.
"Rest, and be easy, Garald. Let us celebrate our victories," I said and the man seemed almost sheepish that I wasn't immediately sending him. "When the feast and celebrations end, I'm sending you to Denmark and Norway with five ships heavy with treasure. There, I want you to do several things -- I want you to recruit men. As many as you can. And I want you to spread word that I have found Miklagard, and that it is a place of great riches."
That would draw more men. I wanted to weaken Horrik in particular, sapping his strength so he couldn't strike out at my allies. Already, I had taken two thousand men from him. Ideally, I would take more.
Garald nodded eagerly and I swallowed my discomfort once more. "I also want you to meet with King Hoffer to commission the construction of fifty longships. Use the treasures that I send with you to pay for it." I didn't want to build them here.
Our longships were much faster than any I had seen in the Mediterranean sea. That was an advantage that I was loath to give up. It was safer to build them with my people, and have them brought down to me.
"Lastly, I would have you deliver messages to my family in Norway. They will be with King Hoffer, and carry their responses back upon your return," I said. It was a tall mission that I was giving him. And a great deal of trust. Yet, as uncomfortable as it was, I knew I could trust him with it. He wouldn't steal the treasures or the gold. He wouldn't betray me to Horrik. The thoughts wouldn't even occur to him.
The man was a zealot and I was his deity.
"It would be my highest honor, Wolf-Kissed," Garald said, religious rapture in his gaze as if I had entrusted him with a divine mission. I… would need to pray to Odin for wisdom on how to deal with that, I decided, because I certainly had no clue how to handle it on my own.
"Take men that you trust. Weather permitting, you should be back before winter," I said, clapping him on the shoulder as I got up to leave. It would take a few months for the longships to be constructed, especially in such volume. It was even likely that it would take more than a year to build the fifty ships. Eventually, my band of mercenaries would be replenished, if not bolstered. My fleet would nearly double in size, and that was without counting the Abbasid ships.
In a year, my position would be stronger than ever.
Leaving Garald and his men behind, who were already fighting over who would join Garald back to Denmark, I found myself thinking of the steps I would need to take. I would need to continue raiding -- mostly to train my men. Raiding the Franks or the Abbasids risked provoking a war, so I would have to turn my gaze elsewhere in the Mediterranean. It would also be a good way to sniff out talent and refine my army for the battles in Denmark -- leaders, fighters, archers, scouts, and so on.
On another note, my studies at Constantinople could continue without interruption. I had learned lessons of war well enough, but it was past time that I turned my attention to the studies I struggled with more.
The hours went by in preparation for the feast while I made plans, setting our course in the coming months. I was feeling excited for it, I decided, finding myself seated in a throne at a high table in the heart of Norland. A marketplace that was set in such a way so that my words would be able to reach everyone. At the heart of the marketplace was a large pile of logs that would soon be ignited into a bonfire. And, for hours, the servants cooked a feast with the foodstuffs that we brought from the Abbasids.
The festive mood had intensified a hundred fold. There was music playing, people dancing, singing, and friendly competitions. The newly taken thralls were less happy, but that was to be expected, and I hoped that would soon change with the news I planned to deliver.
I found myself enjoying the festivities from my seat at the high table. A weight that had been on my shoulders since we arrived on Crete was lifted -- we had won. My family sat with me at the high table, though Morrigan had chosen to go missing rather than enjoy the celebration. Beneath us were my Commanders -- Olek, Authun, Alfic, and Hoffer. All except Thorkell.
It was as the sun was beginning to set that I found myself thumping a carved horn tankard on the table, knowing that it was time for a speech. Word quickly began to spread and I rose to my feet to the marketplace falling silent. Taking in a deep breath, I raised up my cup of mead.
"First, to you, my warriors! We came to a distant land and foreign shores, chasing tales of splendor!" I began in norse, hearing translators echo out my words to my army in various languages -- Germanic, Greek, and there was even someone translating the Greek to Persian for the Thralls. Norland was named for us Norsemen, but I ruled over a truly diverse people. There was cheering going up before I continued, "We have arrived and we have earned a place for ourselves. We have found enemies and brought them low. We have found friends, and with them, great wealth! Our voyage is worthy of a saga that the skalds shall sing of for a thousand years!"
There was a louder cheer and, to my annoyance, I realized whose speech pattern I was copying. Swallowing my annoyance, I continued on, "Let these lands remember our deeds, I say. A runestone shall be erected!" I called out, and my Norse companions cheered, and so did the Germanic men when they understood what I meant. Our peoples were not so different in culture.
The runestone would be the second notable building I constructed. It would be the greatest one my people had ever carved. And it would be how I hid a temple to the gods. The runestone would be carved on four sides, each telling the story of our arrival and deeds in a different language -- Norse, Greek, Frankish, and Arabic. There would be room left for more adventures while I remained in this land, but to start with would detail our war with the Abbasids and the victory in the valley.
The runestone would be located in a grove that I would construct. I would ask for a seedling from the great tree in Verdun to plant in the grove. I would not live to see it, but one day the descendant of Yggdrasil would stand proud in the grove. Amongst the flowers and herbs would be carved statues of the gods where the faithful could speak to them. To those uneducated in our ways, they would merely seem to be stone guardians.
"However, I did not accomplish these deeds worthy of a runestone alone. It was with your bravery, valor, and skill that we managed to defeat the Abbasids!" More cheering, and my gaze drifted amongst the crowd. There, I saw men and women, all looking up at me, hanging off of every word. My gaze lingered on a man, holding up a cup of ale, a long scar taking one of his eyes and he had bloody rags on a stump of a hand. "Nor shall I forget the sacrifice such victories cost. Some paid with their bodies. Others, their lives. They sup in Valhalla with the gods, yet their families remain."
I could tell people were uncertain where I was going with this, so I quickly arrived at the destination. "I will not allow the families of the brave warriors who sailed with me to go hungry. Nor will I allow warriors who paid for victory with their bodies and limbs to suffer destitution. A half share, coming from my share of any loot taken, will go to them and to you."
My men were already loyal. Half of them mistook me for a god. Yet, the thunderous cheering as my words sunk in rivaled that of what I heard in the Hippodrome. My men were already rich, they likely wouldn't need the extra wealth, but they took heart simply because I showed that I would not abandon them. Yet, the reaction I received was more pronounced than I expected. More… intense. I half worried I would be mobbed, not because they hated me, but because they loved me.
It took a full ten minutes for things to quiet down enough that even the shouts to settle down could be heard. It was partly a spur of the moment decision on my part -- With how wealth was distributed, I saw two shares of the whole lot taken. After sacking three cities back to back, I had truly mind-boggling amounts of wealth. Even with the diminishment of half a share, I don't think I would even notice the loss of wealth.
It was five minutes more before things settled enough for me to take Jill's hand and gently pull her to her feet. A smile curled at her lips, her hair and clothes immaculate, wanting to appear perfect for this moment and she was stunning. "A final announcement. On the final day of this celebration, there shall be a marriage. Long have I been betrothed to Gunjill Horrikdottir, and in the time since, she has served me faithfully and without reservation. Before the eyes of you and the eyes of the gods, I shall take her to be my second wife."
You'd think that they were the ones getting married, I thought. Or that I was marrying them. Jill smiled beautifully, basking in a moment I knew I made her wait too long for. I should have married her in Norway. She deserved it then. Though, maybe that wouldn't have been the wisest decision, I thought seeing a flicker of a scowl come from Hoffer, even as his sister cheered as loud as anyone else, even sweeping Jill into a hug.
And it was only then that I saw a familiar face standing above the crowd that cheered for my incoming union. My heart unclenched when I saw Thorkell striding through the crowd, which parted for him with puzzling ease. It was only when he arrived at the front of the crowd that I saw why. An orange striped cat the size of a small horse was pushing his way through the crowd, his lips pulled back to reveal large fangs. I had never seen such a beast before, but I think I knew what it was -- a tiger.
Next to the tiger, who clung to him like a life line, was a woman. She wore light green silks and gold, and even with a veil over her face couldn't hide her apprehension. They came to a stop, and I saw that Thorkell was joined by others -- the warriors I left with him, though fewer in number, and more prisoners than I expected.
The beast and the girl were interesting, but I was far more interested in Thorkell. He looked tired, was my first thought. And his skin had a paleness that I knew indicated some bloodloss, but he still seemed strong. He nodded at me, coming to a stop at the front of the crowd, whose cheers had died off out of curiosity.
"I'm glad to see you back in one piece, Thorkell. You had me worried," I admitted, earning a tired smile.
"Things got a little… complicated. But, I come bearing good news and a tale to tell. First, let me introduce my guest," Thorkell said, gesturing to the girl, and the tiger growled at him when a hand came a little too close to her. Thorkell took a large step to the side to put a little more distance between them. "Princess Jasmine, first daughter to the Caliph. Or so I'm told."
A princess? I hadn't expected that, I thought, turning to Jasmine. Her dark eyes met mine, fear and uncertainty shining in them as she pressed herself closer to the tiger who glowered up at me.
Quite a prize indeed.
...
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There was also a collective air of relief that we were done with the war. It had been a time of stress because of the army of nearly twenty five thousand men prowling at our borders. The battle fatigue built up -- first with dozens of small battles, then a large one, and no sooner than we had won that, we assaulted several cities. The spoils were a fine reward, but that exhaustion still built up all the same.
I certainly felt it as I made my way up to the longhouse, content to leave Norland to rejoice while I got a handle on things. I had just decided to do it in comfort, which was how I found myself sinking into a brass tube that we had taken from the Abbasids, which was filled with steaming hot water. A low sigh escaped me as I sank up to my chin, dozens of wounds stinging from the heat, but my muscles relaxed for the first time in weeks.
"Has Thorkell returned?" I asked, closing my eyes before I felt hands weave into my hair, undoing the braid that I kept it in. Based on the softness of her fingers, I knew it was Jill.
"Not yet," Jill answered, combing her fingers through my hair, wetting it. "The scout ships you left us have seen some activity from the Abbasids -- they're guarding the coast. That could be why he hasn't come back yet," Jill offered and I opened my eyes to see the wooden bath house that was attached to the longhouse. The brass tub was a new addition, but there were several wooden ones.
I wasn't exactly concerned, but I was starting to move in that direction. I had thought that Thorkell would have arrived before me. It had been two weeks and he hadn't sailed back. Had it been a mistake to leave him in enemy territory? Would I even know if he had perished? "Prince Harun and Hadi anticipated an invasion from the sea. They must have sent a message to the towns south of Acre." I mused, considering a course of action.
I would give it a few more days before I would set sail to Acre to see if I could track down Thorkell. I wouldn't raid, and it wouldn't be an attack -- so, it wouldn't be a violation of my oath. It would expose me to attack however. I wouldn't expect the Abbasids to pass up an opportunity to kill me.
"Should we expect another attack?" Jill questioned and I shook my head, sinking deeper into the water.
"They're too out of position to attack Crete and they know it. If they use the ships they have left at all, I'd expect them to sail into Anatolia. Has there been any word?" I asked, curious how the broader war was shaping up.
"Tatzates and Michael are both marching on the Abbasid army with fifty thousand men, but if there has been a battle, word of it hasn't reached us yet." Jill answered and I sighed again. "Jealous?"
"It would be an experience to fight in such a large battle. A hundred thousand men on a single field. Every time I think I've witnessed the largest battle in history, I hear about a larger one," I mused, splashing water on my face. The final battle in Francia was only half as large. "But, we've gained enough. And we are spent."
I thought I heard Jill breathe a sigh of relief behind me. "You've certainly given me enough work," she replied, sounding amused. "I was dreading having to find more space for the loot, and doing another count," she teased with a smile in her voice. "The thralls could pose a problem, however. After everything, the Abbasid thralls match us in numbers."
That was a concern. With a thought, I brought up one of my standing quests from the gods.
Quest: Founding a city.
Objectives:
Population: 9,221/25,000
Wealth: 43,806/100,000
Military power: 3,674/10,000
Notable buildings: 1/5
Objectives:
Population: 9,221/25,000
Wealth: 43,806/100,000
Military power: 3,674/10,000
Notable buildings: 1/5
The wealth I had gained brought me nearly halfway to my target. It almost made me regret my oath, but I knew that it would be worth it in the end. My task was to turn the wealth that I had collected into what I needed to reach the goal. My military strength, however, had taken a harsh blow. I still had more men than I started with, but over the past month, I had lost over a thousand men. Most would recover from their injuries, but they may not be in a position to continue to fight.
"We'll extend an offer to the thralls -- all but the skilled ones," I corrected myself. "We will put them on a ship to sail back to their homeland. Or, they can remain and learn a trade from the craftsmen. That should split their numbers enough to make them manageable." I decided, already having given the idea some thought. The younger thralls, the ones that had little hope of inheritance or finding a trade, would choose to remain behind. And the craftsmen would be more inclined to share their secrets with their own countrymen.
"Some could become merchants," Jill ventured, following up on my idea. "It would be a shame to scrap the fleet that we gained. They're larger than our ships, so they have more space for goods. I've spoken to our merchants and there are markets beyond the Romans. There are the Umayyad Caliphate to the east, the Bulgars, a small kingdom in the region of Italy… and Francia." To that last one, I snorted.
"I imagine King Charlemagne would be less than pleased to find my ships in one of his harbors," I replied, chuckling. "But the idea is good. It would reduce our reliance on Michalis," I added, finding that I liked the idea. I'm sure many thralls would seek to return home, but I imagine quite a few of them would seek to bring over their families for a better life in Norland if they felt like they had a future here.
"We should make an announcement of it during the feast," Jill decided. "It would soothe some of the bad blood with our new arrivals and give them reason to celebrate instead of stewing in their resentment." To that, I nodded.
A celebration was needed. To honor the gods and thank them for our victories as much as the bounty that we had received. "One of many announcements, I should think," I said, reaching up to her hand as she continued to comb my hair. I gave it a small reassuring squeeze, the meaning behind my words clear.
I was pleased to see that Jill smiled in anticipation. Leaning down, she pressed her lips to my cheek before pulling back. "I shall await the announcement, then. Relax until then. You've more than earned it," she said, kissing me on the cheek again before stepping away to leave me soaking in the water. I smiled faintly, closing my eyes once more as I leaned against the lip of the brass tub.
Now was a time of opportunity, I knew. I had an influx of wealth, skilled craftsmen, ships, and my town was experiencing a population boom. The steps I took now would shape the rest of my stay in the Mediterranean. Now was the time to learn. To make mistakes. To test the ideas that I had when it came to developing a city.
So, as I closed my eyes, I started to envision what I wanted Norland to look like. I pictured marble streets and buildings with clay roofs. I saw a temple to the gods. I saw tall walls. I saw streets of craftsmen -- streets of blacksmiths, weavers, glassmakers, painters, and more. All of them flowing into large markets near the docks that were bustling with ships from all corners of the sea. I would be getting a shipment of foreign knowledge… a library, I thought. A replacement for the Library of Alexandria that would store copies of all that I learned from the Romans and the Abbasids.
And an arena, like the Hippodrome. Or the Colosseum I had read about in texts. I would build bathhouses. And hospices for my warriors that found themselves too injured to continue fighting.
I would need to start training a garrison force, I think. Constantinople had a city watch that patrolled the streets in search of crime -- I had heard they were helplessly corrupt, but I hadn't seen that firsthand. So, I would need to come up with something to stop corruption from taking root. Or, at the very least, make it difficult. It would also be left behind to help manage the city once I left with my army.
My head was full of ideas and I knew a great many of them were too ambitious. But, I needed to try. I needed to learn. I had to discover the best way to build roads. The best kind of houses to build in the much harsher weather in Denmark. Because, in the end, Norland was an experiment.
I must have dozed off in the tub because when one of the servants came to check on me, I awoke to tepid water. Waving off a refill to the tub, I dried myself off and got dressed, finding myself refreshed after the long soak. Jill was busying herself with preparing the feast, with help from Astrid. Choosing to leave them be, I decided to take care of some business before the feast.
Norland, despite the influx of people that were here by force, was in a festive mood. The Romans that had fought with us were celebrating, my warriors were indulging in the riches they'd earned. Odds were, there wouldn't be any work done for days, if not weeks. Which made me sincerely hope that Irene didn't send me a message to continue the fight. My men could use the rest.
Norland, even in the brief time I had been away, had undergone changes. Housing near the docks had been repurposed or rebuilt into warehouses. The second hill that Norland had expanded to was being settled with more organization now that we weren't in a mad rush with an enemy breathing down our necks. Market squares were laid out, and some buildings like taverns or inns were used as cornerstones while the areas around them were filled in as buildings were built.
The blacksmiths were hard at work, and they likely would be for some time. The Abbasid army's arms and armor were all collected and being melted down. There was so much of it that most would end up becoming nails or tools as my warriors provided more than what they needed for a shirt of riveted mail and weapons. The extra hands would help alleviate the strain on the dozen smiths that we brought with us.
My destination was a tavern, where I found who I was looking for. Pushing the door open, I immediately felt myself become the center of attention. Garald, however, raised a toast to me with reverence in his eyes. "The Wolf-Kissed! The Raven-Feeder!" He exclaimed, and I swallowed down my discomfort of how he looked at me.
From the very start, Garald looked at me as if I were a god. Now, he looked at me with even greater fervor… because in his eyes, his faith had been rewarded. There was no shadow of a doubt that he was right to come to me from across the known world. It was in everyone's gazes as I entered the tavern.
"Rest easy. You've all earned it," I said placatingly, but they celebrated it all the same as I made my way to Garald. The seat across from him was offered up and I took it, nodding in his direction.
I didn't feel great about this, I decided. "For now, our part in the war is done but we need to replenish our numbers-"
"I'll leave immediately," Garald said, getting up. In that moment, I knew that it wouldn't matter if I told him to swim to Denmark. He'd get there or die trying. However, I stopped him with a hand.
"Rest, and be easy, Garald. Let us celebrate our victories," I said and the man seemed almost sheepish that I wasn't immediately sending him. "When the feast and celebrations end, I'm sending you to Denmark and Norway with five ships heavy with treasure. There, I want you to do several things -- I want you to recruit men. As many as you can. And I want you to spread word that I have found Miklagard, and that it is a place of great riches."
That would draw more men. I wanted to weaken Horrik in particular, sapping his strength so he couldn't strike out at my allies. Already, I had taken two thousand men from him. Ideally, I would take more.
Garald nodded eagerly and I swallowed my discomfort once more. "I also want you to meet with King Hoffer to commission the construction of fifty longships. Use the treasures that I send with you to pay for it." I didn't want to build them here.
Our longships were much faster than any I had seen in the Mediterranean sea. That was an advantage that I was loath to give up. It was safer to build them with my people, and have them brought down to me.
"Lastly, I would have you deliver messages to my family in Norway. They will be with King Hoffer, and carry their responses back upon your return," I said. It was a tall mission that I was giving him. And a great deal of trust. Yet, as uncomfortable as it was, I knew I could trust him with it. He wouldn't steal the treasures or the gold. He wouldn't betray me to Horrik. The thoughts wouldn't even occur to him.
The man was a zealot and I was his deity.
"It would be my highest honor, Wolf-Kissed," Garald said, religious rapture in his gaze as if I had entrusted him with a divine mission. I… would need to pray to Odin for wisdom on how to deal with that, I decided, because I certainly had no clue how to handle it on my own.
"Take men that you trust. Weather permitting, you should be back before winter," I said, clapping him on the shoulder as I got up to leave. It would take a few months for the longships to be constructed, especially in such volume. It was even likely that it would take more than a year to build the fifty ships. Eventually, my band of mercenaries would be replenished, if not bolstered. My fleet would nearly double in size, and that was without counting the Abbasid ships.
In a year, my position would be stronger than ever.
Leaving Garald and his men behind, who were already fighting over who would join Garald back to Denmark, I found myself thinking of the steps I would need to take. I would need to continue raiding -- mostly to train my men. Raiding the Franks or the Abbasids risked provoking a war, so I would have to turn my gaze elsewhere in the Mediterranean. It would also be a good way to sniff out talent and refine my army for the battles in Denmark -- leaders, fighters, archers, scouts, and so on.
On another note, my studies at Constantinople could continue without interruption. I had learned lessons of war well enough, but it was past time that I turned my attention to the studies I struggled with more.
The hours went by in preparation for the feast while I made plans, setting our course in the coming months. I was feeling excited for it, I decided, finding myself seated in a throne at a high table in the heart of Norland. A marketplace that was set in such a way so that my words would be able to reach everyone. At the heart of the marketplace was a large pile of logs that would soon be ignited into a bonfire. And, for hours, the servants cooked a feast with the foodstuffs that we brought from the Abbasids.
The festive mood had intensified a hundred fold. There was music playing, people dancing, singing, and friendly competitions. The newly taken thralls were less happy, but that was to be expected, and I hoped that would soon change with the news I planned to deliver.
I found myself enjoying the festivities from my seat at the high table. A weight that had been on my shoulders since we arrived on Crete was lifted -- we had won. My family sat with me at the high table, though Morrigan had chosen to go missing rather than enjoy the celebration. Beneath us were my Commanders -- Olek, Authun, Alfic, and Hoffer. All except Thorkell.
It was as the sun was beginning to set that I found myself thumping a carved horn tankard on the table, knowing that it was time for a speech. Word quickly began to spread and I rose to my feet to the marketplace falling silent. Taking in a deep breath, I raised up my cup of mead.
"First, to you, my warriors! We came to a distant land and foreign shores, chasing tales of splendor!" I began in norse, hearing translators echo out my words to my army in various languages -- Germanic, Greek, and there was even someone translating the Greek to Persian for the Thralls. Norland was named for us Norsemen, but I ruled over a truly diverse people. There was cheering going up before I continued, "We have arrived and we have earned a place for ourselves. We have found enemies and brought them low. We have found friends, and with them, great wealth! Our voyage is worthy of a saga that the skalds shall sing of for a thousand years!"
There was a louder cheer and, to my annoyance, I realized whose speech pattern I was copying. Swallowing my annoyance, I continued on, "Let these lands remember our deeds, I say. A runestone shall be erected!" I called out, and my Norse companions cheered, and so did the Germanic men when they understood what I meant. Our peoples were not so different in culture.
The runestone would be the second notable building I constructed. It would be the greatest one my people had ever carved. And it would be how I hid a temple to the gods. The runestone would be carved on four sides, each telling the story of our arrival and deeds in a different language -- Norse, Greek, Frankish, and Arabic. There would be room left for more adventures while I remained in this land, but to start with would detail our war with the Abbasids and the victory in the valley.
The runestone would be located in a grove that I would construct. I would ask for a seedling from the great tree in Verdun to plant in the grove. I would not live to see it, but one day the descendant of Yggdrasil would stand proud in the grove. Amongst the flowers and herbs would be carved statues of the gods where the faithful could speak to them. To those uneducated in our ways, they would merely seem to be stone guardians.
"However, I did not accomplish these deeds worthy of a runestone alone. It was with your bravery, valor, and skill that we managed to defeat the Abbasids!" More cheering, and my gaze drifted amongst the crowd. There, I saw men and women, all looking up at me, hanging off of every word. My gaze lingered on a man, holding up a cup of ale, a long scar taking one of his eyes and he had bloody rags on a stump of a hand. "Nor shall I forget the sacrifice such victories cost. Some paid with their bodies. Others, their lives. They sup in Valhalla with the gods, yet their families remain."
I could tell people were uncertain where I was going with this, so I quickly arrived at the destination. "I will not allow the families of the brave warriors who sailed with me to go hungry. Nor will I allow warriors who paid for victory with their bodies and limbs to suffer destitution. A half share, coming from my share of any loot taken, will go to them and to you."
My men were already loyal. Half of them mistook me for a god. Yet, the thunderous cheering as my words sunk in rivaled that of what I heard in the Hippodrome. My men were already rich, they likely wouldn't need the extra wealth, but they took heart simply because I showed that I would not abandon them. Yet, the reaction I received was more pronounced than I expected. More… intense. I half worried I would be mobbed, not because they hated me, but because they loved me.
It took a full ten minutes for things to quiet down enough that even the shouts to settle down could be heard. It was partly a spur of the moment decision on my part -- With how wealth was distributed, I saw two shares of the whole lot taken. After sacking three cities back to back, I had truly mind-boggling amounts of wealth. Even with the diminishment of half a share, I don't think I would even notice the loss of wealth.
It was five minutes more before things settled enough for me to take Jill's hand and gently pull her to her feet. A smile curled at her lips, her hair and clothes immaculate, wanting to appear perfect for this moment and she was stunning. "A final announcement. On the final day of this celebration, there shall be a marriage. Long have I been betrothed to Gunjill Horrikdottir, and in the time since, she has served me faithfully and without reservation. Before the eyes of you and the eyes of the gods, I shall take her to be my second wife."
You'd think that they were the ones getting married, I thought. Or that I was marrying them. Jill smiled beautifully, basking in a moment I knew I made her wait too long for. I should have married her in Norway. She deserved it then. Though, maybe that wouldn't have been the wisest decision, I thought seeing a flicker of a scowl come from Hoffer, even as his sister cheered as loud as anyone else, even sweeping Jill into a hug.
And it was only then that I saw a familiar face standing above the crowd that cheered for my incoming union. My heart unclenched when I saw Thorkell striding through the crowd, which parted for him with puzzling ease. It was only when he arrived at the front of the crowd that I saw why. An orange striped cat the size of a small horse was pushing his way through the crowd, his lips pulled back to reveal large fangs. I had never seen such a beast before, but I think I knew what it was -- a tiger.
Next to the tiger, who clung to him like a life line, was a woman. She wore light green silks and gold, and even with a veil over her face couldn't hide her apprehension. They came to a stop, and I saw that Thorkell was joined by others -- the warriors I left with him, though fewer in number, and more prisoners than I expected.
The beast and the girl were interesting, but I was far more interested in Thorkell. He looked tired, was my first thought. And his skin had a paleness that I knew indicated some bloodloss, but he still seemed strong. He nodded at me, coming to a stop at the front of the crowd, whose cheers had died off out of curiosity.
"I'm glad to see you back in one piece, Thorkell. You had me worried," I admitted, earning a tired smile.
"Things got a little… complicated. But, I come bearing good news and a tale to tell. First, let me introduce my guest," Thorkell said, gesturing to the girl, and the tiger growled at him when a hand came a little too close to her. Thorkell took a large step to the side to put a little more distance between them. "Princess Jasmine, first daughter to the Caliph. Or so I'm told."
A princess? I hadn't expected that, I thought, turning to Jasmine. Her dark eyes met mine, fear and uncertainty shining in them as she pressed herself closer to the tiger who glowered up at me.
Quite a prize indeed.
...
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- Pronouns
- She/Her
Oh dang, that's going to be an interesting issue to pose to the Abbasids. Losing in battle and the negotiating with him in the first place is going to put Harun and co. in hot water with the Caliph, probably, but losing a daughter, who should have been kept safe, protected, and well away from the enemy? This could be terrible for them, potentially causing executions depending on how the Caliph takes it.
Causes for Celebration
- Location
- USA
"The tiger is tame so long as you don't go anywhere near her. But his idea of what counts as too close changes minute by minute. Made for a really awkward ride back," Thorkell said before tipping his head back, taking several large gulps from a horn of ale while one of our healers saw to a wound he had taken on his side. His ribs were purple and yellow, but over them was a long cut. His chainmail had saved his life. As he described it, a blade punched through the rings at an angle that cut him across the ribs rather than stabbing into them.
"Grabbing her was the easy part," Thorkell continued, letting out a heaving sigh as he drained the horn dry, holding it out for a servant to fill. "Just like you said, the nobles snuck out of Acre and were heading to a city called Damascus. We ambushed them on the road, and they gave up pretty easily on her command. Barely had to kill more than a few of them before the Princess gave herself up to save the lives of her bodyguards." Meaning that she had no taste for bloodshed.
I sat across from Thorkell, away from the celebrations, in the longhouse. "But, her surrender came with a few conditions. No more executing the prisoners. Which put us in a fucking bind because their guards were more than enough to be a pain in our asses. So, I made the call to take the nobility, ditch the guards, and run back to the ship." He raised the horn up to the servant that filled it in thanks before he took another large gulp from it. "Only to find out that the ship had been found and was under guard -- a hefty one. They didn't know about the Princess then, but they were expecting us to come back."
Thorkell winced when the stitching began. "Had to draw them out and of course the Princess saw it as a chance to escape. So, I used her as bait to pull them out of position and hammered them. But, by that time the original guards were back in the city with word that we had their Princess and they started hunting us. They cast a wide net, so for the past two weeks I've been dodging their patrols and looking for a gap in the net. Wasn't more than a couple of days ago that I found one to sail right through." With that, he finished his horn of ale and unleashed a belch that made my eyes water. "Sorry," he offered unapologetically.
My gaze turned to Princess Jasmine's quarters in the longhouse. As Thorkell said, the tiger would not part with her and as soon as she could, she meekly vanished into a room. The other noble prisoners were held in what amounted to prison cells. It was too early to tell how important they were, but when I looked them over, only Princess Jasmine shone gold. "You did well, Thorkell. We both knew it wasn't going to be an easy task, and you got the job done."
"That's what you pay me for," Thorkell replied, lowering his arm as the final stitch was made and tied off. He poked at the wound, only for his hand to get swatted away by an annoyed healer woman. "So, what happens now?"
That was the question. A princess was an unexpected hostage, but she also wasn't one I was prepared to use. If we had captured her a little earlier then I could have used her against Prince Harun. I could have ransomed her back to him, at the very least. And, annoyingly, I wouldn't have needed to make an oath. I should have given Thorkell more support to accomplish his goal faster, even if it meant it would weaken us further when raiding.
"We add her to the letter we send Empress Dowager Irene," I said, mulling it over for a moment. She was my prisoner, so her ransom would be mine, but I was not the one the Abbasids were at war with. I could probably get away with ransoming the lesser nobility, but a princess? I imagine Irene would be quite cross with me if I traded her away without consulting her. It would have been better to capture Prince Harun, or even both of them, as the Romans would have had a lot more leverage over the Abbasids during negotiations for a peace. "For now, she remains here as a prisoner. I suppose it really depends on how the Romans do in Anatolia."
Reaching out I clapped Thorkell on the shoulder, "Get some rest. You've earned it." To that, Thorkell raised up the refilled horn.
"Wake me up when the wedding happens," he said with mirth. "You made her wait long enough." That was too true for me to argue so I just chuckled and waved him off. The wedding itself would be in a week, on the final day of the celebration of our victory over the Abbasids. It felt like a good note to end on. Astrid and Jill were both making preparations for the wedding itself, as neither of our parents were here to shoulder the responsibility.
I scratched at my cheek, my attention drifting back to Princess Jasmine. She was a princess, so treating her as a normal prisoner wouldn't do. She would have to be treated as a… guest that couldn't leave. So, she would need to be included in the festivities. It might also give me the chance to gain some insight to Prince Harun and Hadi. I was uncertain if we would clash once more in the years I would remain here, but it would be prudent to prepare for that possibility.
With that thought in mind, I turned my attention to finding Jill and Astrid. The festivities were in full swing with all of the announcements made, so our constant presence wasn't required. Everyone was enjoying themselves, even the thralls that were welcomed at the feast when they learned that their freedom was in their grasp. Morrigan was still off doing her own self-appointed tasks, and all I knew of it was that she left a message with Jill saying that she would be gone for a few days. I was curious what exactly she was doing, but I knew to trust her.
I found my wife and my soon to be second wife together, overlooking the feast but not quite a part of it. They both looked up as I approached, "How would you two feel about being accompanied by a princess?" I asked and Astrid cocked an eyebrow. "I've never captured royalty before," I offered with a shrug.
"It would be a good idea to make a good impression. As much as we can after kidnapping her," Jill replied with a small nod. "When this war is over, we could find ports in the Caliphate open to us."
To that, Astrid snorted, "I imagine they'd be sore about us selling their stuff back to them."
"It expands our importance as a trading hub on the Mediterranean. I've checked the prices against Constantinople's markets -- the spices, silks, and more sell quite highly. More so now, with the war." Jill said, offering a ghost of a smile. "But it would be best to avoid overwhelming her. And the tiger. Mostly the tiger," Jill amended. I found the argument agreeable and the three of us retreated into a more private hall.
A servant went to fetch the princess, and I found myself quite curious about her. It was hardly my first time meeting royalty, but it was the first time under these circumstances. It didn't take long for me to hear the low creak of the floorboards before I saw the creature that made them. The tiger rounded the corner with Princess Jasmine's hand lightly resting between his two massive shoulder blades. Every time the tiger took a step, I saw flexing muscle underneath the orange striped hide while the cat-like pupil was trained on me.
Princess Jasmine wore a king's ransom in gold, silks, and gemstones with a thin light blue silk veil on her face. Her dark eyes flickered around nervously before also settling on me and she gripped down on the tiger reflexively, then the tiger growled at me for scaring the princess with my mere presence. However, the two weren't alone. They were joined by one other, and he was a familiar face.
"Please stop capturing me," Alim requested in a soft, almost gentle voice. My eyebrows climbed high, not at the request but because of the language he spoke it in.
Alim just spoke flawless Norse.
"Would it help if I said it wasn't on purpose?" I offered, crossing my arms, my thumb lightly brushing against the gold armband near my elbow.
Alim seemed to think about it for a moment before shaking his head. He had cleaned up a good bit since I last saw him, before I used him to help Zafir escape so I could lure the Abbasid fleet into a trap. His hair was cut, he was cleaner, his close finer… I felt compelled to ask, "You've learned Norse?"
To that, Alim nodded. "I figured it out. I got the missing pieces after Thorkell captured us." That was… a little off? I wasn't one to throw stones -- I also had the ability to learn languages unnaturally fast, but I also had a give from the gods that helped me do it. "Can I go back to Zafir? He'll be worried…" And there was that odd relationship that Morrigan told me about. Zafir was loyal to Alim.
It was an odd puzzle but not the one I sought to figure out at the moment. "I have no reason to keep you separated from your vassal," I said, just to test the waters. I got a much stronger reaction than I expected. Alim's face froze with the kind of panic that I only saw when I drew steel on someone. Then he wiped it away. I pretended to not notice, "You can be returned to him when we return the thralls to the Abbasids. For now, could you serve as a translator?"
Despite my thoughts, I was curious about Alim. That was a strong reaction to the word vassal. Was he perhaps nobility? Disgraced nobility, given his living conditions.
Alim seemed eager to distract me, so he quickly nodded. With that, I turned my attention to Princess Jasmine, who seemed vaguely alarmed by Alim's alarm. "My apologies for not greeting you before, Princess Jasmine," I said in Arabic, making her eyes widen while Alim translated my words into Norse to Jill and Astrid. "I am Siegfried Erikson, ruler of this city. This is my wife, Astrid and my betrothed Jill." I said, introducing them both.
The introductions, or perhaps it was the fact that I was being polite, seemed to put her at ease. Well, ease was probably the wrong word. She was less likely to sic her tiger upon me at least.
Her gaze, interestingly, lingered on Astrid. "I am Princess Jasmine, daughter of Caliph Al-Mhadi," she introduced herself tersely. Her gaze flickered to me. "Your reputation precedes you, Lord Wolf-Kissed. Might I ask a question of you?" She asked, and I noticed that her tone was one of polite friendliness.
I nodded, "If I have an answer, I'll give it-"
"Does my brother still live?" Princess Jasmine interrupted me, her tone more urgent.
"He does," I answered quickly and I saw tension ease out of her. "He and that bastard Hadi beat me to Antioch, where we came to terms. I suspect that he is already marching to join your father in Anatolia," I offered. I had no proof of it, but it seemed the likely course.
There was a spark of amusement entering her dark eyes now that her immediate fear was addressed, "Sheikh Hadi speaks of you much in the same way." I could see that she was also filing away what I said about his movements.
"Good," I grunted. I was still sore about my burnt ships.
It was then that Astrid spoke up, "The tiger. Can I know how she got one? He's a beautiful animal," She questioned, appearing tempted to approach, but knew better than to try. The tiger was on high alert, and even if he was mostly glowering at me, I expected that he would lash out if anyone came too close.
I let Alim translated the words into Arabic and found that he translated the words perfectly. As well as I could have. Princess Jasmine seemed to be lowering her guard. As much as one could from high alert to simply alert. "Rajah was originally part of a circus that came to celebrate my birthday. He managed to sneak out of his cage, and into the palace, and I found him playing in the gardens," she answered and beneath the veil, I saw her smiling at the memory.
Interestingly, I saw Rajah relax as well. He was like a well trained hound -- when his master was afraid or angry, he would growl and bark. When she was relaxed, he struck me as a rather large house cat. "I was convinced that he was a gift from my mother at first, but when my parents tried to separate us, I locked myself in my room and refused to come out for a full week. They relented after that, but they've laid a few traps for us to argue that he's too dangerous to keep as a pet. Rajah has never fallen for them, though. He's my friend. My greatest friend in the world."
I was struck by how lonely she sounded as she uttered the words. And she only seemed to realize that she uttered them outloud a second later, making her dusky skin darken further with a flush.
"Could I pet him? His fur looks so soft," Astrid said, and Princess Jasmine blinked in surprise while I tensed.
"You may? He won't attack anyone. Unless I command it," she said, casting a less than subtle glance at me. Astrid got up and Jasmine looked down at her swelling belly, rubbing calming circles into Rajah's back. I kept myself still, trying to not alarm the tiger.
I imagine that Princess Jasmine would be far less forthcoming if I killed her tiger. But I would. If it so much as bared a tooth at my wife and child, I'd kill it without remorse or mercy. Astrid seemed to sense my unease and offered a playful wink at me, approaching the tiger without fear. She crouched down to eye level with the tiger, offering a hand for him to sniff. Rajah seemed almost human when he glanced up at Princess Jasmine for guidance. The princess smiled and nodded, and Astrid reached out to pet the tiger-
She gasped and I nearly flung myself across the room to tackle the animal and break its neck. "His fur is so soft! Jill! You have to pet him," Astrid urged, taking an inch and running a mile with Rajah's permission to pet him. She used both hands, giving the tiger chin scratches while Jill hesitantly got up to join.
And I watched with a faint sense of amusement that the fearsome tiger adopted the appearance of a large house cat, soaking up the attention with a royal expectation.
It was as good of a first impression as I could expect.
…
The festivities continued for days. Jill and Astrid pulled Princess Jasmine into their group, but I was firmly kept out of it. The Princess felt uneasy around me, which led to Rajah feeling uneasy. I kept a few guards around them just in case, but after a week, my opinion of Princess Jasmine was that she was quite soft-hearted. I didn't think she had it in her to order Rajah to attack anyone.
It was a week later that I found myself dressing in my wedding clothes -- a second pair. The first had been woven by my mother and sisters. The second pair was made by tailors. Silks and fine cloths that were embroidered around my sleeves, neck, and hem. My hair was braided, my beard trimmed in the style that Jill had suggested with my neck shaven. I was clean and wore the scent of an expensive perfume from Constantinople.
It was as I was dressing myself that some anticipated news was delivered to me. "The Romans and the Abbasids clashed in Anatolia. I've heard rumors that the Romans both won and lost, telling me that it was either a poor victory or a close defeat." Thorkell informed me, looking right as rain after healing from his injuries. "What I do know for certain is that Prince Harun, and Hadi, played a part in the battle."
I inspected my reflection in a piece of polished copper before adjusting my tunic. "Do we know how?" I asked, finding myself unsurprised with the news.
"Word is that the battle had been fought for a good three days. The Romans were getting the better of the Abbasids before Prince Harun showed up with ten to twenty thousand men. From there, he either attacked the Roman flank and drove them off or the Romans drove off the Abbasids at a bloody cost." Thorkell answered and I mulled that over. We would need to wait until more news reached us, but given what I knew about Prince Harun and Hadi, I was more inclined to believe that the Romans had been defeated.
"Another thing I heard -- the Abbasid Prince Hadi- not the bastard Hadi," Thorkell corrected when I sharply glanced at him. "The crown prince and Harun's older brother. He was killed in the fighting, making Harun the crowned prince." That was…
Annoying.
If things played out a little differently then I could have had the Abbasid crown prince as my prisoner. And I knew exactly who to blame for the fact that I didn't.
That bastard.
"... it would be best to hold that news until after the wedding," I decided, thinking of Jasmine. Jill told me that she was quite close with Harun and her mother, Al-Khayzuran, but she said nothing of Prince Hadi. But, he was still kin to her and it would be best to not taint the wedding with news of death.
"What happens now?" Thorkell questioned and I took a moment to think about it. If the Romans had been defeated, but not so totally that they could not regroup… we had royal hostages. I had killed twenty thousand soldiers. I had sacked a number of their coastal cities and stole a number of ships, leading them to believe a sea invasion was coming. If it had been a decisive defeat for the Romans, I could see the Abbasids feeling comfortable with continuing the invasion, but a close defeat?
"I suspect we'll see peace talks soon," I ventured with a small shrug. Likewise, the Romans, had they won the battle, would be willing to continue to counter invade the Abbasids. However, with a stinging defeat, they would understand how dangerous their position was and they would seek peace while they were still ahead. I might be expected to join the peace talks, but I didn't anticipate that I would receive such an invitation.
"And us?" Thorkell prompted and I turned around to face him, an easy smile on my face.
"For now? I get married again," I answered, earning a chuckle before Thorkell clapped me on the shoulder before ushering me forward. Leaving my room in the longhouse, I made my trek to where the wedding would be taking place and I chose where I would be placing the runestone.
The groundwork for it was already being laid out -- the gardens were planted, the layout planned, but most notably of all was the large slab of marble that I had brought over from Constantinople. It stood twice my height, and that was with a good portion of it buried in the dirt to make sure it didn't tip over in case of a storm. The carvings had yet to begin, but they would soon.
It was before the marble slab that I waited as the guests gathered up. The commanders of my army. Merchants of note that heard about the affair. I couldn't quite tell if it was a snub by Michalis when sent word that he could not attend, but I cared little. And, to my pleasure, Alexios, my teacher, had chosen to attend and he seemed quite excited for it.
Music played as Jill approached. She had no family to give her away, nor did I, so it wasn't quite a traditional wedding. She looked radiant, however -- she wore a white dress that was tailored for her, and a crown of flowers tucked into her dark brown hair. In her hands was an axe. One of fine make with a large bearded edge while on the other side, there was a pointed wedge. Beside her, Astrid walked with Jill in place of her family. A statement that Astrid welcomed Jill as my second wife.
Jill's gaze met mine as she approached, a slight smile on her face growing a fraction. She practically seemed to glow with a radiant joy. I found myself smiling back as she came to a stop across from me and I gently reached out, cupping her hands in mine.
"You're beautiful," I told her in a low whisper.
Her gaze softened and I was barely aware of the goði speaking, starting the wedding. "It's been a long time coming, hm?" Jill noted quietly, her hand in mine.
To that, I could only chuckle.
We said the words, becoming husband and wife… but the truth of the matter was that we had been together since that day in Denmark. The words just made it official.
...
The next chapter is currently available on my Patreon and Subscribe Star, so if you want to read it a week early, all it takes is a single dollar in the tip jar. Or, for five dollars, you can read the chapter after that two weeks before its public release! I hope you enjoyed!
"Grabbing her was the easy part," Thorkell continued, letting out a heaving sigh as he drained the horn dry, holding it out for a servant to fill. "Just like you said, the nobles snuck out of Acre and were heading to a city called Damascus. We ambushed them on the road, and they gave up pretty easily on her command. Barely had to kill more than a few of them before the Princess gave herself up to save the lives of her bodyguards." Meaning that she had no taste for bloodshed.
I sat across from Thorkell, away from the celebrations, in the longhouse. "But, her surrender came with a few conditions. No more executing the prisoners. Which put us in a fucking bind because their guards were more than enough to be a pain in our asses. So, I made the call to take the nobility, ditch the guards, and run back to the ship." He raised the horn up to the servant that filled it in thanks before he took another large gulp from it. "Only to find out that the ship had been found and was under guard -- a hefty one. They didn't know about the Princess then, but they were expecting us to come back."
Thorkell winced when the stitching began. "Had to draw them out and of course the Princess saw it as a chance to escape. So, I used her as bait to pull them out of position and hammered them. But, by that time the original guards were back in the city with word that we had their Princess and they started hunting us. They cast a wide net, so for the past two weeks I've been dodging their patrols and looking for a gap in the net. Wasn't more than a couple of days ago that I found one to sail right through." With that, he finished his horn of ale and unleashed a belch that made my eyes water. "Sorry," he offered unapologetically.
My gaze turned to Princess Jasmine's quarters in the longhouse. As Thorkell said, the tiger would not part with her and as soon as she could, she meekly vanished into a room. The other noble prisoners were held in what amounted to prison cells. It was too early to tell how important they were, but when I looked them over, only Princess Jasmine shone gold. "You did well, Thorkell. We both knew it wasn't going to be an easy task, and you got the job done."
"That's what you pay me for," Thorkell replied, lowering his arm as the final stitch was made and tied off. He poked at the wound, only for his hand to get swatted away by an annoyed healer woman. "So, what happens now?"
That was the question. A princess was an unexpected hostage, but she also wasn't one I was prepared to use. If we had captured her a little earlier then I could have used her against Prince Harun. I could have ransomed her back to him, at the very least. And, annoyingly, I wouldn't have needed to make an oath. I should have given Thorkell more support to accomplish his goal faster, even if it meant it would weaken us further when raiding.
"We add her to the letter we send Empress Dowager Irene," I said, mulling it over for a moment. She was my prisoner, so her ransom would be mine, but I was not the one the Abbasids were at war with. I could probably get away with ransoming the lesser nobility, but a princess? I imagine Irene would be quite cross with me if I traded her away without consulting her. It would have been better to capture Prince Harun, or even both of them, as the Romans would have had a lot more leverage over the Abbasids during negotiations for a peace. "For now, she remains here as a prisoner. I suppose it really depends on how the Romans do in Anatolia."
Reaching out I clapped Thorkell on the shoulder, "Get some rest. You've earned it." To that, Thorkell raised up the refilled horn.
"Wake me up when the wedding happens," he said with mirth. "You made her wait long enough." That was too true for me to argue so I just chuckled and waved him off. The wedding itself would be in a week, on the final day of the celebration of our victory over the Abbasids. It felt like a good note to end on. Astrid and Jill were both making preparations for the wedding itself, as neither of our parents were here to shoulder the responsibility.
I scratched at my cheek, my attention drifting back to Princess Jasmine. She was a princess, so treating her as a normal prisoner wouldn't do. She would have to be treated as a… guest that couldn't leave. So, she would need to be included in the festivities. It might also give me the chance to gain some insight to Prince Harun and Hadi. I was uncertain if we would clash once more in the years I would remain here, but it would be prudent to prepare for that possibility.
With that thought in mind, I turned my attention to finding Jill and Astrid. The festivities were in full swing with all of the announcements made, so our constant presence wasn't required. Everyone was enjoying themselves, even the thralls that were welcomed at the feast when they learned that their freedom was in their grasp. Morrigan was still off doing her own self-appointed tasks, and all I knew of it was that she left a message with Jill saying that she would be gone for a few days. I was curious what exactly she was doing, but I knew to trust her.
I found my wife and my soon to be second wife together, overlooking the feast but not quite a part of it. They both looked up as I approached, "How would you two feel about being accompanied by a princess?" I asked and Astrid cocked an eyebrow. "I've never captured royalty before," I offered with a shrug.
"It would be a good idea to make a good impression. As much as we can after kidnapping her," Jill replied with a small nod. "When this war is over, we could find ports in the Caliphate open to us."
To that, Astrid snorted, "I imagine they'd be sore about us selling their stuff back to them."
"It expands our importance as a trading hub on the Mediterranean. I've checked the prices against Constantinople's markets -- the spices, silks, and more sell quite highly. More so now, with the war." Jill said, offering a ghost of a smile. "But it would be best to avoid overwhelming her. And the tiger. Mostly the tiger," Jill amended. I found the argument agreeable and the three of us retreated into a more private hall.
A servant went to fetch the princess, and I found myself quite curious about her. It was hardly my first time meeting royalty, but it was the first time under these circumstances. It didn't take long for me to hear the low creak of the floorboards before I saw the creature that made them. The tiger rounded the corner with Princess Jasmine's hand lightly resting between his two massive shoulder blades. Every time the tiger took a step, I saw flexing muscle underneath the orange striped hide while the cat-like pupil was trained on me.
Princess Jasmine wore a king's ransom in gold, silks, and gemstones with a thin light blue silk veil on her face. Her dark eyes flickered around nervously before also settling on me and she gripped down on the tiger reflexively, then the tiger growled at me for scaring the princess with my mere presence. However, the two weren't alone. They were joined by one other, and he was a familiar face.
"Please stop capturing me," Alim requested in a soft, almost gentle voice. My eyebrows climbed high, not at the request but because of the language he spoke it in.
Alim just spoke flawless Norse.
"Would it help if I said it wasn't on purpose?" I offered, crossing my arms, my thumb lightly brushing against the gold armband near my elbow.
Alim seemed to think about it for a moment before shaking his head. He had cleaned up a good bit since I last saw him, before I used him to help Zafir escape so I could lure the Abbasid fleet into a trap. His hair was cut, he was cleaner, his close finer… I felt compelled to ask, "You've learned Norse?"
To that, Alim nodded. "I figured it out. I got the missing pieces after Thorkell captured us." That was… a little off? I wasn't one to throw stones -- I also had the ability to learn languages unnaturally fast, but I also had a give from the gods that helped me do it. "Can I go back to Zafir? He'll be worried…" And there was that odd relationship that Morrigan told me about. Zafir was loyal to Alim.
It was an odd puzzle but not the one I sought to figure out at the moment. "I have no reason to keep you separated from your vassal," I said, just to test the waters. I got a much stronger reaction than I expected. Alim's face froze with the kind of panic that I only saw when I drew steel on someone. Then he wiped it away. I pretended to not notice, "You can be returned to him when we return the thralls to the Abbasids. For now, could you serve as a translator?"
Despite my thoughts, I was curious about Alim. That was a strong reaction to the word vassal. Was he perhaps nobility? Disgraced nobility, given his living conditions.
Alim seemed eager to distract me, so he quickly nodded. With that, I turned my attention to Princess Jasmine, who seemed vaguely alarmed by Alim's alarm. "My apologies for not greeting you before, Princess Jasmine," I said in Arabic, making her eyes widen while Alim translated my words into Norse to Jill and Astrid. "I am Siegfried Erikson, ruler of this city. This is my wife, Astrid and my betrothed Jill." I said, introducing them both.
The introductions, or perhaps it was the fact that I was being polite, seemed to put her at ease. Well, ease was probably the wrong word. She was less likely to sic her tiger upon me at least.
Her gaze, interestingly, lingered on Astrid. "I am Princess Jasmine, daughter of Caliph Al-Mhadi," she introduced herself tersely. Her gaze flickered to me. "Your reputation precedes you, Lord Wolf-Kissed. Might I ask a question of you?" She asked, and I noticed that her tone was one of polite friendliness.
I nodded, "If I have an answer, I'll give it-"
"Does my brother still live?" Princess Jasmine interrupted me, her tone more urgent.
"He does," I answered quickly and I saw tension ease out of her. "He and that bastard Hadi beat me to Antioch, where we came to terms. I suspect that he is already marching to join your father in Anatolia," I offered. I had no proof of it, but it seemed the likely course.
There was a spark of amusement entering her dark eyes now that her immediate fear was addressed, "Sheikh Hadi speaks of you much in the same way." I could see that she was also filing away what I said about his movements.
"Good," I grunted. I was still sore about my burnt ships.
It was then that Astrid spoke up, "The tiger. Can I know how she got one? He's a beautiful animal," She questioned, appearing tempted to approach, but knew better than to try. The tiger was on high alert, and even if he was mostly glowering at me, I expected that he would lash out if anyone came too close.
I let Alim translated the words into Arabic and found that he translated the words perfectly. As well as I could have. Princess Jasmine seemed to be lowering her guard. As much as one could from high alert to simply alert. "Rajah was originally part of a circus that came to celebrate my birthday. He managed to sneak out of his cage, and into the palace, and I found him playing in the gardens," she answered and beneath the veil, I saw her smiling at the memory.
Interestingly, I saw Rajah relax as well. He was like a well trained hound -- when his master was afraid or angry, he would growl and bark. When she was relaxed, he struck me as a rather large house cat. "I was convinced that he was a gift from my mother at first, but when my parents tried to separate us, I locked myself in my room and refused to come out for a full week. They relented after that, but they've laid a few traps for us to argue that he's too dangerous to keep as a pet. Rajah has never fallen for them, though. He's my friend. My greatest friend in the world."
I was struck by how lonely she sounded as she uttered the words. And she only seemed to realize that she uttered them outloud a second later, making her dusky skin darken further with a flush.
"Could I pet him? His fur looks so soft," Astrid said, and Princess Jasmine blinked in surprise while I tensed.
"You may? He won't attack anyone. Unless I command it," she said, casting a less than subtle glance at me. Astrid got up and Jasmine looked down at her swelling belly, rubbing calming circles into Rajah's back. I kept myself still, trying to not alarm the tiger.
I imagine that Princess Jasmine would be far less forthcoming if I killed her tiger. But I would. If it so much as bared a tooth at my wife and child, I'd kill it without remorse or mercy. Astrid seemed to sense my unease and offered a playful wink at me, approaching the tiger without fear. She crouched down to eye level with the tiger, offering a hand for him to sniff. Rajah seemed almost human when he glanced up at Princess Jasmine for guidance. The princess smiled and nodded, and Astrid reached out to pet the tiger-
She gasped and I nearly flung myself across the room to tackle the animal and break its neck. "His fur is so soft! Jill! You have to pet him," Astrid urged, taking an inch and running a mile with Rajah's permission to pet him. She used both hands, giving the tiger chin scratches while Jill hesitantly got up to join.
And I watched with a faint sense of amusement that the fearsome tiger adopted the appearance of a large house cat, soaking up the attention with a royal expectation.
It was as good of a first impression as I could expect.
…
The festivities continued for days. Jill and Astrid pulled Princess Jasmine into their group, but I was firmly kept out of it. The Princess felt uneasy around me, which led to Rajah feeling uneasy. I kept a few guards around them just in case, but after a week, my opinion of Princess Jasmine was that she was quite soft-hearted. I didn't think she had it in her to order Rajah to attack anyone.
It was a week later that I found myself dressing in my wedding clothes -- a second pair. The first had been woven by my mother and sisters. The second pair was made by tailors. Silks and fine cloths that were embroidered around my sleeves, neck, and hem. My hair was braided, my beard trimmed in the style that Jill had suggested with my neck shaven. I was clean and wore the scent of an expensive perfume from Constantinople.
It was as I was dressing myself that some anticipated news was delivered to me. "The Romans and the Abbasids clashed in Anatolia. I've heard rumors that the Romans both won and lost, telling me that it was either a poor victory or a close defeat." Thorkell informed me, looking right as rain after healing from his injuries. "What I do know for certain is that Prince Harun, and Hadi, played a part in the battle."
I inspected my reflection in a piece of polished copper before adjusting my tunic. "Do we know how?" I asked, finding myself unsurprised with the news.
"Word is that the battle had been fought for a good three days. The Romans were getting the better of the Abbasids before Prince Harun showed up with ten to twenty thousand men. From there, he either attacked the Roman flank and drove them off or the Romans drove off the Abbasids at a bloody cost." Thorkell answered and I mulled that over. We would need to wait until more news reached us, but given what I knew about Prince Harun and Hadi, I was more inclined to believe that the Romans had been defeated.
"Another thing I heard -- the Abbasid Prince Hadi- not the bastard Hadi," Thorkell corrected when I sharply glanced at him. "The crown prince and Harun's older brother. He was killed in the fighting, making Harun the crowned prince." That was…
Annoying.
If things played out a little differently then I could have had the Abbasid crown prince as my prisoner. And I knew exactly who to blame for the fact that I didn't.
That bastard.
"... it would be best to hold that news until after the wedding," I decided, thinking of Jasmine. Jill told me that she was quite close with Harun and her mother, Al-Khayzuran, but she said nothing of Prince Hadi. But, he was still kin to her and it would be best to not taint the wedding with news of death.
"What happens now?" Thorkell questioned and I took a moment to think about it. If the Romans had been defeated, but not so totally that they could not regroup… we had royal hostages. I had killed twenty thousand soldiers. I had sacked a number of their coastal cities and stole a number of ships, leading them to believe a sea invasion was coming. If it had been a decisive defeat for the Romans, I could see the Abbasids feeling comfortable with continuing the invasion, but a close defeat?
"I suspect we'll see peace talks soon," I ventured with a small shrug. Likewise, the Romans, had they won the battle, would be willing to continue to counter invade the Abbasids. However, with a stinging defeat, they would understand how dangerous their position was and they would seek peace while they were still ahead. I might be expected to join the peace talks, but I didn't anticipate that I would receive such an invitation.
"And us?" Thorkell prompted and I turned around to face him, an easy smile on my face.
"For now? I get married again," I answered, earning a chuckle before Thorkell clapped me on the shoulder before ushering me forward. Leaving my room in the longhouse, I made my trek to where the wedding would be taking place and I chose where I would be placing the runestone.
The groundwork for it was already being laid out -- the gardens were planted, the layout planned, but most notably of all was the large slab of marble that I had brought over from Constantinople. It stood twice my height, and that was with a good portion of it buried in the dirt to make sure it didn't tip over in case of a storm. The carvings had yet to begin, but they would soon.
It was before the marble slab that I waited as the guests gathered up. The commanders of my army. Merchants of note that heard about the affair. I couldn't quite tell if it was a snub by Michalis when sent word that he could not attend, but I cared little. And, to my pleasure, Alexios, my teacher, had chosen to attend and he seemed quite excited for it.
Music played as Jill approached. She had no family to give her away, nor did I, so it wasn't quite a traditional wedding. She looked radiant, however -- she wore a white dress that was tailored for her, and a crown of flowers tucked into her dark brown hair. In her hands was an axe. One of fine make with a large bearded edge while on the other side, there was a pointed wedge. Beside her, Astrid walked with Jill in place of her family. A statement that Astrid welcomed Jill as my second wife.
Jill's gaze met mine as she approached, a slight smile on her face growing a fraction. She practically seemed to glow with a radiant joy. I found myself smiling back as she came to a stop across from me and I gently reached out, cupping her hands in mine.
"You're beautiful," I told her in a low whisper.
Her gaze softened and I was barely aware of the goði speaking, starting the wedding. "It's been a long time coming, hm?" Jill noted quietly, her hand in mine.
To that, I could only chuckle.
We said the words, becoming husband and wife… but the truth of the matter was that we had been together since that day in Denmark. The words just made it official.
...
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- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
On the one hand: if he trades Jasmine for Hadi, he will have a much easier time fighting the Caliphate.
On the other hand, he'll have a much easier time fighting the Caliphate and a huge part of the trip is to gain experience against challenging opponents.
On the other hand, he'll have a much easier time fighting the Caliphate and a huge part of the trip is to gain experience against challenging opponents.
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
It kinda doesn't matter because it wasn't turned into a public library until al Ma'mun's reign, sometime between 813 and 833.
Hence why he'd have to trade a princess for access.
Desire for Creation
- Location
- USA
It took another two weeks for us to hear the truth of the battle between the Romans and the Abbasids. The battle had been a series of clashes -- the Romans attacked the Abbasids outside of a castle, breaking their siege, before defeating them in the field. After that, the Abbasids began to retreat, only to find themselves pursued by the Romans, where they clashed in the field once more. It was in that battle that Prince Hadi was killed, and I also heard that the Caliph Al-Mhadi had been wounded as well.
It was shaping up to be a decisive defeat for the Abbasids when Prince Harun and Hadi arrived. They smashed into the Roman's flank, and rolled over the entire army, causing a full rout. The Romans retreated back to a fortified position. Since then, they had been eying one another while word spread on both sides of my victories and hostages.
Princess Jasmine grieved privately when she heard of the death of her brother. She had settled in with Astrid and Jill, my wives, but not so much to the point that she felt comfortable showing weakness.
In the two weeks since my second marriage, I was a little surprised at how little had truly changed. There were some differences, of course -- like Astrid being convinced that Jill was already with child, but for the most part our relationships still felt the same. Just a little… more.
"Morrigan is still gone," Jill informed from her side of the bed while I busied myself with getting dressed. "She said it would be a couple of days. I'm starting to get worried," she admitted as I threw a tunic over my head before grabbing my belt.
I was too. "She really didn't say anything to anyone?" I asked, trusting Morrigan to take care of herself, but I was worried about her absence all the same. I had yet to receive a quest from the gods saying that she needed to be rescued however, so between my trust and the lack of notice, I was mostly sure that she was okay. Mostly.
"She simply boarded a merchant ship heading to Constantinople," Jill sighed. "She didn't say anything to anyone," she continued, pushing the covers back and I drank her visage in for but a moment. Jill had become rather fond of a white silk shift, and I was rather fond of it too. "Should we start to search for her? Chares wasn't the only enemy that we have."
The words did squeeze my heart with a pang of worry, but I shook my head. "If there is anyone that I trust to survive, it's Morrigan. I'm not sure what game she's playing, but if she wanted us to know what she intended then she would have told us." I could guess what she planned, but I wasn't certain. The greatest weakness of her boon was that she needed to see two people in a room to see the connection between them. Though, I couldn't guess who she was trying to see the connection between.
Crossing the distance between us, I pressed my lips to Jill's, who smiled into the kiss. "Rest. I can see everyone off," I said, breaking the kiss and Jill needed little convincing.
Though, a scowl did flicker across her face, "Hoffer will be pleased." And, to that, I managed a small wince.
Hoffer had always been displeased with Jill's influence, but he had mostly kept it to himself beyond the occasional sour look. However, since Jill and I had gotten married, his displeasure was starting to spill out. Before, I suppose he was comfortable with the knowledge that Jill was merely a consort, but now that she was my second wife…
I had heard tales of fighting amongst families, even if I never saw it first hand. In my family, there wasn't a difference between me and my brothers, regardless of which mother gave birth to us. And while no one had said it in so many words, I was starting to get the impression that wasn't the case for Hoffer and Astrid's family. It hadn't gotten to the point it needed intervention, but if nothing was done before that point, it would become a problem.
"That's why he's going with Gerald," I replied, kissing her temple as she settled back into bed. She nodded, appearing vaguely pleased and guilty. The reason for the guilt was easy to identify -- Hoffer was Astrid's brother, after all.
With some reluctance, I pulled away from Jill and went out to start the day. The longhouse had recovered from a lengthy celebration, as had the people of Norland. I had underestimated how large of an event that my wedding would be, so the feast continued on for another five days. Towards the end, I was fairly sure that the people had forgotten what they were celebrating.
It took more than a few days for people to rejoin the living after drinking so much. And, a week later, things were back to normal. Even if I'm certain that we had drained every last drop of ale, mead, and wine in the entire settlement.
And now it was time to see Gerald off. Which had taken a week because of a series of duels that had taken place for the honor of returning to Denmark with my message. Part of why I was sending them out so early in the morning, with the sun just barely peeking over the horizon, was that I hoped to avoid any more duels slowing their departure. And while I seemed to have managed that much, there was still a crowd gathering to see off the five ships that I was sending back to Denmark, each manned by thirty men.
The crowd parted for me as I approached, allowing me to walk down the docks where I saw Hoffer and Astrid embracing. There was a proud smile on Hoffer's face, and I caught his lips moving. I wasn't close enough to hear him, but I made an educated guess that he was trying to convince her to convince me that our child should be named Hoffer. As was their family tradition.
It was Gerald that approached me, "Lord Wolf-Kissed." He dressed in his finest clothes, and his ships were heavy with wealth. "Gods willing, we'll return before winter sets in."
I smiled at him, his worship still unnerving, but I was finding that I appreciated his unwavering loyalty. "There is no rush. I'd rather you avoid trying to cross the Dnipro through winter," I said, nodding to him as we clasped arms. I was expecting it to be about a year before I saw him again.
The ships would be the biggest hold up. Fifty longships wasn't a minor thing to build. Most likely, I would see Gerald return with half of the ships that I asked for and later, I could send someone up to collect the rest. What was more important was the recruits. At the very least, I nodded to replenish my losses -- so a thousand men. But, ideally, my company could grow.
After all, the more men that came to me, the fewer that Horrik could call upon. So, I held out hope that I would see around three thousand fresh warriors, bringing my company to seven thousand and five hundred. That was an army in itself.
I was a little worried at how easily Gerald agreed. It was as if he was convinced that nothing ill could befall him because he had divine protection. So, I insisted. "Be careful. You're sailing into a den of snakes," I said, my gaze flickering over his shoulder, looking at the man that True Sight marked in red. Everyone else in the crew had to fight for the privilege of sailing back to Denmark and Norway.
Not him.
Him, I sent back intentionally.
Gerald still seemed unreasonably confident, but he nodded all the same. "We'll be careful. By the time the king of snakes realizes we're there, we'll have stolen an army from him," he swore. Overconfident or not, that was essentially what I wanted him to do, so I nodded. Gerald stepped back, letting Hoffer approach and he clasped arms with me and clapped me on the shoulder.
"Take care, Wolf-Kissed. And since I won't be here to greet him, give my nephew my love," he requested and I nodded.
"You have my word," I returned. I couldn't tell how he was taking the news of his departure. He hadn't complained, but he didn't see it as the same honor as Gerald did. It was then that I passed him a number of letters that I had written. "Give these to my family with my love. We shall remain in this land for some more years, but they never stray far from my thoughts."
Hoffer accepted the letters and nodded. With that, the farewells were over and everyone loaded up onto the ships. The letters contained nothing of true importance, merely telling my mother and siblings of our adventures and what I had seen. By the time the letter reached them, I would be a father. And likely an uncle given my mother's plans for marriages.
Astrid pressed herself into my side, watching as the ships pushed off the dock before sailing towards the harbor mouth. "You warned them both from doing anything stupid, right? That's a lot of wealth, even with how many men are guarding it."
"I did. They'll be fine. I included a letter for Jarl Radulfr, so he shouldn't be any trouble," I said, pulling her close. He sat at the mouth of the river to the Baltic Sea, and he struck me as a greedy opportunist. But, with the letter carrying a promise of wealth, I didn't expect any trouble from him. "Horrik will be the one they need to worry about."
To that, Astrid squeezed my hand. "Let's go pray at the grove," she decided and I nodded. My words were less of a reassurance than I hoped. It was a harsh truth, though. Horrik was firmly out of reach for me, every bit as much as I was for him. These brief interactions were the only window of opportunity we would have to hurt one another for some time yet -- me trying to steal an army from underneath him, and him attacking my men, stealing my wealth, and preventing my ships from arriving.
And I very much expected him to slip some of his men into the army that came down. Perhaps I could convince them to betray him. Maybe I would just kill them. Either way, he would have fewer men by the time I was done.
As the ships started their long trek back, we made our way through the town that was just starting to wake up. There were fewer people as the thralls had already been shipped back to the Abbasids -- some wishing to return to their homeland, with others promising that they would return with their kin as soon as they were able.
Releasing the thralls had an unintended side effect of making the craftsmen take their teachings seriously. Before, I suspected, they believed that freedom was a vague promise on the horizon. Now they saw the worth of my word and they were convinced. Some worked to return home, while others worked to entrench themselves in these lands without any competition. As a result, some of the craftsmen were already waking up, and I heard the ringing of steel.
Making our way up to the grove where Jill and I were married weeks earlier, I saw that the development of it was already further along. The gardens of flowers were starting to bud, the packed dirt was being smoothed over with grass, with decorations starting to fill the empty space. It was there that we saw the large slab of marble still stood proudly in the heart of the grove.
And it was there that we saw an old man marking the slab with colored paste. Marking where he would chip away and engrave the deeds of the battle that was being called Raven's Feast. He circled the slab of marble, occasionally marking it with blue paste, and it was upon circling it that he took notice of us. "My lord and lady," He quickly said, bowing his head as we approached. "I was simply preparing the runestone. I can come back another time-"
"No, there's no need," Astrid quickly interjected. "We were going to pray for my brother's safe passage and offer a sacrifice. We won't interrupt your work," she offered and the old man seemed vaguely relieved.
"Ah, I shall offer my own prayers, Princess Astrid. And my thanks for sparing my old bones a long walk," he offered as I stepped forward, inspecting the slab. "It shall be my finest work, old bones or not."
I glanced at him, "You've erected runestones before?" I asked and he eagerly nodded.
"It is my profession! I learned the craft when I was a small boy from my father, and I've spent the sixty years since mastering it," he informed with obvious pride. And, given his age, he must have been one of the camp followers that Gerald brought with him. "Often enough, I carve smaller works. Name stones for warriors hoping to earn a saga."
Namestones. I had seen some of them floating around my army, but I never had one commissioned myself. The stones were what the name implied -- a piece of stone with a warrior's name written on it. When they accomplished a deed of note, such as winning a duel or slaying a dangerous animal, they would add an inscription of the deed to the stone, and pass them out. It was the hope that they would accomplish enough deeds to earn a saga. They advertised themselves and their deeds.
"I've carved fewer runestones, but half of the ones still standing in Denmark were carved by me," he continued with more obvious pride.
Astrid was curious, asking a question that I also had. "Yet, you left?"
"Aye. You've already been mentioned in one," He informed me. "A boy who stood in the face of archers, his arms held out wide, knowing that he had the gods' protection. Not a single arrow touched you then, and you led the charge against the Franks." The Runecarver reminded me, and I recalled the battle he spoke of.
It felt like a lifetime ago, I thought. Instead it was… three years now?
Astrid gave me a mildly amused look before the Runecarver continued, "I knew then that if I followed you, I'd have worthy deeds to carve. And I was right! The very first I shall carve is a victory that will be remembered for thousands of years!" The way he spoke, you'd think the victory of carving my deed was equal to the deed itself.
I looked back at the marble slab and What Lies Within showed me what the runestone could be. A four sided pillar, each with the victory written in a different language. I saw it could be a statue of Odin. Of Thor. Tyr. Of any of the Aesir.
"Thousands of years?" I echoed, reaching out and placing a hand on the slab, feeling its smooth surface under my palm. Before I came to Rome, I didn't understand the length of that much time. To me, the days of old could be anything between eighty years to a century to a millennia ago. There was no true difference. But, now I knew better.
A thousand years ago, Alexander the Great reshaped the world and even a thousand years later, the world still felt the echoes of his steps. A thousand years ago, Julias Caesar carved away the rot of an ancient republic to pave the way for the mighty empire the Romans would become.
I had seen buildings and statues with my own eyes that had been built in the eras of those men. A thousand years was an incredibly long amount of time. Generations upon generations upon generations.
"Do you remember the Parthenon in Greece?" I asked Astrid and she cocked an eyebrow at my tone.
"It'd be hard to forget," she replied, curious where I was going with this.
"It was built in the year four hundred and forty-seven before the Christian God died. Making it over a thousand and two hundred years old by their calendar," I said and I saw her still at the information. "The Romans do not care for us and our legacy. Or even their own history. They would see the Parthenon reduced to rubble because its beauty offends their god. And they will likely destroy this runestone as soon as we set sail for home."
I was jealous. I had started to become accustomed to the feeling when I thought of the Roman cities. Their statues. Their wealth and knowledge. Because I looked upon what the runestone could be, and I doubted that it could endure the test of time.
However, the Runecarver chuckled, "I suspect they will. As much as I would like to say that all of my works are still standing… most of them aren't," he admitted. "A warrior or jarl is defeated, and the victor sees his runestone smashed to rubble. More of my work has been destroyed than remains, I fear." He sighed, sounding sad but resigned. "But I still work. I still carve. Because, I know, at least one of my works shall endure. That when I am long dead and forgotten… my work, and the story on it, shall remain."
As he spoke, he held out a hammer and a chisel. I looked down at them, knowing what the offer was, and I pondered it for a moment before accepting. The tools both had some weight to them as I lined up the chisel and raised the hammer.
With a single decisive blow, I carved a chunk of the marble off. Taking a step back, I looked at it, feeling a little… foolish. Honestly, I just marred the uniform surface of the slab, but it was no different than woodcarving.
"Art," I decided, and I could tell neither of the two had any idea what I was talking about.
I had two more classes whose spots I wanted to fill. I would take art classes from the university. With my hands, which knew so much death and destruction, I would learn to create. And, maybe… just maybe…
One of my creations would endure the test of time.
...
The next chapter is currently available on my Patreon and Subscribe Star, so if you want to read it a week early, all it takes is a single dollar in the tip jar. Or, for five dollars, you can read the chapter after that two weeks before its public release! I hope you enjoyed!
It was shaping up to be a decisive defeat for the Abbasids when Prince Harun and Hadi arrived. They smashed into the Roman's flank, and rolled over the entire army, causing a full rout. The Romans retreated back to a fortified position. Since then, they had been eying one another while word spread on both sides of my victories and hostages.
Princess Jasmine grieved privately when she heard of the death of her brother. She had settled in with Astrid and Jill, my wives, but not so much to the point that she felt comfortable showing weakness.
In the two weeks since my second marriage, I was a little surprised at how little had truly changed. There were some differences, of course -- like Astrid being convinced that Jill was already with child, but for the most part our relationships still felt the same. Just a little… more.
"Morrigan is still gone," Jill informed from her side of the bed while I busied myself with getting dressed. "She said it would be a couple of days. I'm starting to get worried," she admitted as I threw a tunic over my head before grabbing my belt.
I was too. "She really didn't say anything to anyone?" I asked, trusting Morrigan to take care of herself, but I was worried about her absence all the same. I had yet to receive a quest from the gods saying that she needed to be rescued however, so between my trust and the lack of notice, I was mostly sure that she was okay. Mostly.
"She simply boarded a merchant ship heading to Constantinople," Jill sighed. "She didn't say anything to anyone," she continued, pushing the covers back and I drank her visage in for but a moment. Jill had become rather fond of a white silk shift, and I was rather fond of it too. "Should we start to search for her? Chares wasn't the only enemy that we have."
The words did squeeze my heart with a pang of worry, but I shook my head. "If there is anyone that I trust to survive, it's Morrigan. I'm not sure what game she's playing, but if she wanted us to know what she intended then she would have told us." I could guess what she planned, but I wasn't certain. The greatest weakness of her boon was that she needed to see two people in a room to see the connection between them. Though, I couldn't guess who she was trying to see the connection between.
Crossing the distance between us, I pressed my lips to Jill's, who smiled into the kiss. "Rest. I can see everyone off," I said, breaking the kiss and Jill needed little convincing.
Though, a scowl did flicker across her face, "Hoffer will be pleased." And, to that, I managed a small wince.
Hoffer had always been displeased with Jill's influence, but he had mostly kept it to himself beyond the occasional sour look. However, since Jill and I had gotten married, his displeasure was starting to spill out. Before, I suppose he was comfortable with the knowledge that Jill was merely a consort, but now that she was my second wife…
I had heard tales of fighting amongst families, even if I never saw it first hand. In my family, there wasn't a difference between me and my brothers, regardless of which mother gave birth to us. And while no one had said it in so many words, I was starting to get the impression that wasn't the case for Hoffer and Astrid's family. It hadn't gotten to the point it needed intervention, but if nothing was done before that point, it would become a problem.
"That's why he's going with Gerald," I replied, kissing her temple as she settled back into bed. She nodded, appearing vaguely pleased and guilty. The reason for the guilt was easy to identify -- Hoffer was Astrid's brother, after all.
With some reluctance, I pulled away from Jill and went out to start the day. The longhouse had recovered from a lengthy celebration, as had the people of Norland. I had underestimated how large of an event that my wedding would be, so the feast continued on for another five days. Towards the end, I was fairly sure that the people had forgotten what they were celebrating.
It took more than a few days for people to rejoin the living after drinking so much. And, a week later, things were back to normal. Even if I'm certain that we had drained every last drop of ale, mead, and wine in the entire settlement.
And now it was time to see Gerald off. Which had taken a week because of a series of duels that had taken place for the honor of returning to Denmark with my message. Part of why I was sending them out so early in the morning, with the sun just barely peeking over the horizon, was that I hoped to avoid any more duels slowing their departure. And while I seemed to have managed that much, there was still a crowd gathering to see off the five ships that I was sending back to Denmark, each manned by thirty men.
The crowd parted for me as I approached, allowing me to walk down the docks where I saw Hoffer and Astrid embracing. There was a proud smile on Hoffer's face, and I caught his lips moving. I wasn't close enough to hear him, but I made an educated guess that he was trying to convince her to convince me that our child should be named Hoffer. As was their family tradition.
It was Gerald that approached me, "Lord Wolf-Kissed." He dressed in his finest clothes, and his ships were heavy with wealth. "Gods willing, we'll return before winter sets in."
I smiled at him, his worship still unnerving, but I was finding that I appreciated his unwavering loyalty. "There is no rush. I'd rather you avoid trying to cross the Dnipro through winter," I said, nodding to him as we clasped arms. I was expecting it to be about a year before I saw him again.
The ships would be the biggest hold up. Fifty longships wasn't a minor thing to build. Most likely, I would see Gerald return with half of the ships that I asked for and later, I could send someone up to collect the rest. What was more important was the recruits. At the very least, I nodded to replenish my losses -- so a thousand men. But, ideally, my company could grow.
After all, the more men that came to me, the fewer that Horrik could call upon. So, I held out hope that I would see around three thousand fresh warriors, bringing my company to seven thousand and five hundred. That was an army in itself.
I was a little worried at how easily Gerald agreed. It was as if he was convinced that nothing ill could befall him because he had divine protection. So, I insisted. "Be careful. You're sailing into a den of snakes," I said, my gaze flickering over his shoulder, looking at the man that True Sight marked in red. Everyone else in the crew had to fight for the privilege of sailing back to Denmark and Norway.
Not him.
Him, I sent back intentionally.
Gerald still seemed unreasonably confident, but he nodded all the same. "We'll be careful. By the time the king of snakes realizes we're there, we'll have stolen an army from him," he swore. Overconfident or not, that was essentially what I wanted him to do, so I nodded. Gerald stepped back, letting Hoffer approach and he clasped arms with me and clapped me on the shoulder.
"Take care, Wolf-Kissed. And since I won't be here to greet him, give my nephew my love," he requested and I nodded.
"You have my word," I returned. I couldn't tell how he was taking the news of his departure. He hadn't complained, but he didn't see it as the same honor as Gerald did. It was then that I passed him a number of letters that I had written. "Give these to my family with my love. We shall remain in this land for some more years, but they never stray far from my thoughts."
Hoffer accepted the letters and nodded. With that, the farewells were over and everyone loaded up onto the ships. The letters contained nothing of true importance, merely telling my mother and siblings of our adventures and what I had seen. By the time the letter reached them, I would be a father. And likely an uncle given my mother's plans for marriages.
Astrid pressed herself into my side, watching as the ships pushed off the dock before sailing towards the harbor mouth. "You warned them both from doing anything stupid, right? That's a lot of wealth, even with how many men are guarding it."
"I did. They'll be fine. I included a letter for Jarl Radulfr, so he shouldn't be any trouble," I said, pulling her close. He sat at the mouth of the river to the Baltic Sea, and he struck me as a greedy opportunist. But, with the letter carrying a promise of wealth, I didn't expect any trouble from him. "Horrik will be the one they need to worry about."
To that, Astrid squeezed my hand. "Let's go pray at the grove," she decided and I nodded. My words were less of a reassurance than I hoped. It was a harsh truth, though. Horrik was firmly out of reach for me, every bit as much as I was for him. These brief interactions were the only window of opportunity we would have to hurt one another for some time yet -- me trying to steal an army from underneath him, and him attacking my men, stealing my wealth, and preventing my ships from arriving.
And I very much expected him to slip some of his men into the army that came down. Perhaps I could convince them to betray him. Maybe I would just kill them. Either way, he would have fewer men by the time I was done.
As the ships started their long trek back, we made our way through the town that was just starting to wake up. There were fewer people as the thralls had already been shipped back to the Abbasids -- some wishing to return to their homeland, with others promising that they would return with their kin as soon as they were able.
Releasing the thralls had an unintended side effect of making the craftsmen take their teachings seriously. Before, I suspected, they believed that freedom was a vague promise on the horizon. Now they saw the worth of my word and they were convinced. Some worked to return home, while others worked to entrench themselves in these lands without any competition. As a result, some of the craftsmen were already waking up, and I heard the ringing of steel.
Making our way up to the grove where Jill and I were married weeks earlier, I saw that the development of it was already further along. The gardens of flowers were starting to bud, the packed dirt was being smoothed over with grass, with decorations starting to fill the empty space. It was there that we saw the large slab of marble still stood proudly in the heart of the grove.
And it was there that we saw an old man marking the slab with colored paste. Marking where he would chip away and engrave the deeds of the battle that was being called Raven's Feast. He circled the slab of marble, occasionally marking it with blue paste, and it was upon circling it that he took notice of us. "My lord and lady," He quickly said, bowing his head as we approached. "I was simply preparing the runestone. I can come back another time-"
"No, there's no need," Astrid quickly interjected. "We were going to pray for my brother's safe passage and offer a sacrifice. We won't interrupt your work," she offered and the old man seemed vaguely relieved.
"Ah, I shall offer my own prayers, Princess Astrid. And my thanks for sparing my old bones a long walk," he offered as I stepped forward, inspecting the slab. "It shall be my finest work, old bones or not."
I glanced at him, "You've erected runestones before?" I asked and he eagerly nodded.
"It is my profession! I learned the craft when I was a small boy from my father, and I've spent the sixty years since mastering it," he informed with obvious pride. And, given his age, he must have been one of the camp followers that Gerald brought with him. "Often enough, I carve smaller works. Name stones for warriors hoping to earn a saga."
Namestones. I had seen some of them floating around my army, but I never had one commissioned myself. The stones were what the name implied -- a piece of stone with a warrior's name written on it. When they accomplished a deed of note, such as winning a duel or slaying a dangerous animal, they would add an inscription of the deed to the stone, and pass them out. It was the hope that they would accomplish enough deeds to earn a saga. They advertised themselves and their deeds.
"I've carved fewer runestones, but half of the ones still standing in Denmark were carved by me," he continued with more obvious pride.
Astrid was curious, asking a question that I also had. "Yet, you left?"
"Aye. You've already been mentioned in one," He informed me. "A boy who stood in the face of archers, his arms held out wide, knowing that he had the gods' protection. Not a single arrow touched you then, and you led the charge against the Franks." The Runecarver reminded me, and I recalled the battle he spoke of.
It felt like a lifetime ago, I thought. Instead it was… three years now?
Astrid gave me a mildly amused look before the Runecarver continued, "I knew then that if I followed you, I'd have worthy deeds to carve. And I was right! The very first I shall carve is a victory that will be remembered for thousands of years!" The way he spoke, you'd think the victory of carving my deed was equal to the deed itself.
I looked back at the marble slab and What Lies Within showed me what the runestone could be. A four sided pillar, each with the victory written in a different language. I saw it could be a statue of Odin. Of Thor. Tyr. Of any of the Aesir.
"Thousands of years?" I echoed, reaching out and placing a hand on the slab, feeling its smooth surface under my palm. Before I came to Rome, I didn't understand the length of that much time. To me, the days of old could be anything between eighty years to a century to a millennia ago. There was no true difference. But, now I knew better.
A thousand years ago, Alexander the Great reshaped the world and even a thousand years later, the world still felt the echoes of his steps. A thousand years ago, Julias Caesar carved away the rot of an ancient republic to pave the way for the mighty empire the Romans would become.
I had seen buildings and statues with my own eyes that had been built in the eras of those men. A thousand years was an incredibly long amount of time. Generations upon generations upon generations.
"Do you remember the Parthenon in Greece?" I asked Astrid and she cocked an eyebrow at my tone.
"It'd be hard to forget," she replied, curious where I was going with this.
"It was built in the year four hundred and forty-seven before the Christian God died. Making it over a thousand and two hundred years old by their calendar," I said and I saw her still at the information. "The Romans do not care for us and our legacy. Or even their own history. They would see the Parthenon reduced to rubble because its beauty offends their god. And they will likely destroy this runestone as soon as we set sail for home."
I was jealous. I had started to become accustomed to the feeling when I thought of the Roman cities. Their statues. Their wealth and knowledge. Because I looked upon what the runestone could be, and I doubted that it could endure the test of time.
However, the Runecarver chuckled, "I suspect they will. As much as I would like to say that all of my works are still standing… most of them aren't," he admitted. "A warrior or jarl is defeated, and the victor sees his runestone smashed to rubble. More of my work has been destroyed than remains, I fear." He sighed, sounding sad but resigned. "But I still work. I still carve. Because, I know, at least one of my works shall endure. That when I am long dead and forgotten… my work, and the story on it, shall remain."
As he spoke, he held out a hammer and a chisel. I looked down at them, knowing what the offer was, and I pondered it for a moment before accepting. The tools both had some weight to them as I lined up the chisel and raised the hammer.
With a single decisive blow, I carved a chunk of the marble off. Taking a step back, I looked at it, feeling a little… foolish. Honestly, I just marred the uniform surface of the slab, but it was no different than woodcarving.
"Art," I decided, and I could tell neither of the two had any idea what I was talking about.
I had two more classes whose spots I wanted to fill. I would take art classes from the university. With my hands, which knew so much death and destruction, I would learn to create. And, maybe… just maybe…
One of my creations would endure the test of time.
...
The next chapter is currently available on my Patreon and Subscribe Star, so if you want to read it a week early, all it takes is a single dollar in the tip jar. Or, for five dollars, you can read the chapter after that two weeks before its public release! I hope you enjoyed!
- Location
- Boston
Thanks for the update, looking forward to a deeper dive into the art / cultural side of things