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“I don’t think there’s a business more profitable than war,” I muttered to myself as the boats were being loaded up with cargo near Hedeby. It was a city that was even larger than Alabu. I thought that we would… stop by the city, but Jarl Horrik sent the army home to enjoy their prizes. The hundred odd ships were loaded up with all the wealth taken from our very profitable war in the Frankish Kingdom.

Ageric had been ransomed rather quickly. As had those that were taken for slaves in the wake of a defeat or the sacking of Cologne. I oversaw most of the negotiations between the Frank envoys. The five hundred odd men were sold back as a collective for one hundred pounds of silver, which would be distributed evenly between those that had taken slaves and included them in the sale. Though, not all had been sold back.

Ageric, however, had been a separate ransom. I had led the negotiations, having gotten used to haggling. When the Frankish envoy offered a hundred and fifty pounds of silver for the now duke Ageric, I instantly made a counteroffer of two hundred and fifty. We met in the middle and I gained a prize of two hundred pounds of silver. Twice the amount we got for hundreds of slaves. For a single man. It was absolutely mad. Otto left with Ageric, deciding to exercise his newfound freedom to become Ageric’s personal priest.

He told me that he would keep me in his prayers. I told him he didn’t need to, but he was oddly stubborn at times.

In a single season, I had gained much. Near two hundred and thirty pounds of silver and twenty pounds of gold. A herd of animals -- chickens, goats, sheep, cows, and horses. A hundred bushels of various grains and spices, like pepper kernels. I also gained command of a warband twenty-five strong while earning much renown for myself. I did my job well, everyone in the army knew the name Siegfried the Wolf-Kissed, and those that returned to Hedeby would spread my deeds.

My entire fortune changed. I was already wealthy in terms of land, but now I had material wealth. There were thegns that weren’t as well off as I was. I intended to use that wealth well and I was generous with it with my family, and my newfound warband. Thorkell called it buying loyalty, but I had so much that it seemed greedy to horde all my good fortune to myself.

Beyond material wealth, I gained a number of perks for Diplomacy and Stewardship, in the domains of Negotiation, Economic Management, and Asset Management. The two domains were tightly bound together, I was learning. Diplomacy to gain wealth and Stewardship to use it. Negotiation for the thralls and the ransoms gave me a large amount of exp, and the money given in turn gave me Stewardship exp.

For Diplomacy, I had a few options.

Reasonable

When negotiating, appearing reasonable is more important than being reasonable. Your unreasonable offers will be treated as if they were more reasonable than they normally would… or should.

Known Desires

Knowing what the other party wants is the foundation of all negotiations. Known Desires grants an instinctual feeling for what the other party wants… and what they are willing to part with.

Both were useful, as all of the gods’ gifts tended to be. However, Known Desires seemed overall more useful. The two working together would be a powerful combination, so I fully intended to get both. For now, however, I settled on picking Known Desires first. After that were the Stewardship gifts. The gains from the war were so expansive that I had two separate domains to choose from.

For Economic Management, I had a choice between:

Fortune Spotter

It takes money to make money, and with Fortune Spotter, gambles on investments are more likely to work out with a tidy profit.

Item Worth

Upon a glance, an item’s intrinsic value will be revealed for local markets.

I chose Item Worth. Mostly because I think it had the most immediate use for me. Fortune Spotter sounded like it relied on me finding opportunities -- like maybe a skilled craftsman wanting to open up a workshop but needing money to start. However, that didn’t really happen very often. More than that, opportunities like that belonged to the duties of a Jarl. Item Worth, however, had a lot of immediate use. For starters, I would know the exact price I should haggle towards for an item and what I should sell above.

Lastly, there was Asset Management, the choices being:

Hardy

Men and beast under your command and ownership have an increased constitution.

Rustic

Items and property under your ownership incur fewer maintenance costs.

Hardy was clearly the best choice. Preventing sickness in animals was a great boon by itself, but… my warband also gained the benefits of an increased constitution? I wasn’t such a tight purse that I would deny my men such a boon. I was gladdened that the gods saw fit to expand their blessings beyond just me. I hoped that they would offer something that would help members of my family eventually.

In all, going to war had probably been one of the greatest things that had ever happened to me in my life.

“Heh,” Thorkell chuckled, clearly amused, overhearing my mutterings. “There’s a good reason why men love war so much. Spend this haul right, and you’ll never have to wield an axe again.” He noted as the ship was being loaded. The look that he gave me told me he didn’t find that likely.

Neither did Thorfinn, who stood next to me as we watched a hundred ships being loaded, “Nonsense. You can never have too much silver and gold!” He decided, looking at a ship that he had bought from one of the Jarls of King Sigfred. As much wealth as I had made, it couldn’t be compared to the amount that Jarl Horrik or King Sigfred had made. The same system I used was used by them, so they got a portion of my haul as well. And what was left over was still an insane amount of wealth. “The Franks have proved themselves rich. These ships will be filled with old warriors and new alike.”

Havi nodded as we watched, but said nothing. Thorfinn reached out and thumped me on the shoulder, "Think of the prizes inland! You aren't going to let a little success turn you away from the warrior's path, are you?" He asked me, and I scoffed.

I liked farming. I did. However, it couldn't be denied that war was far more rewarding. How long would it have taken to peacefully earn the same amount I had just gained? A lifetime? Two? Three? There were many that had farms far bigger than mine that didn't have a fraction of the wealth I did.

"You'd have to bind me in chains to stop me from joining you," I admitted. I liked farming but I had found my taste for war. I could stomach pillaging now that I had reaped the rewards for it. Thorfinn approved, throwing his arm over my shoulders.

"That's what I like to hear!" He decided before he leaned in, "My father speaks of making you a Thegn. You already are one in practice, but you will be given Ivarstead and Elephant to rule over." He told me, making me stiffen. "Don't be so modest, Wolf-Kissed. My father would be a fool to not recognize your talents. And my father is no fool."

He brought me in closer, "We're practically brothers already. My sister reaches adulthood this spring. And it's only natural to look after kin, yeah?" He said, stating the obvious but when I looked to him, Tell Spotter didn't react. I think he was definitely hinting at something, but he wasn't lying about anything.

"Of course," I agreed. Me and Thorfinn… we didn't really know each other. I had seen him and spoken to him a number of times, but I would hesitate to call us friends. Not to mention there had been a time where he avoided me, but I suspected that was because I had witnessed his father berate him. So, the sudden friendliness caught me off guard, but it wasn't unwelcome.

Thorfinn was likely to be the next Jarl. Being on good terms with him only made sense, and I didn't find him disagreeable. I was just surprised.

"To think you would marry before me," Havi sighed, earning a grin from me. "I should probably start looking to settle down too. Start a family of my own."

"I think you already have some kids," Thorfinn remarked, earning a chuckle from Havi. "Finding a good wife is something best left to mothers, though. The women you want to be with don't tend to make good wives, even if they are a good lay." That was a little surprising. I didn't expect him to have that opinion.

Havi shrugged, "Maybe. My mother has been bringing up girls for years but they're all so skinny. Or they nag. Or mother doesn't know that every boy in the village has been with her," he added, earning a laugh from Thorfinn. I knew the girl he spoke about too. She seemed nice.

"You'll have more choices now. Fathers will be throwing their daughters at you by the bunch," Thorfinn said as the call to set sail echoed out with a horn blast. My warband got onto Thorfinn's ship that was heavy with cargo. "Jill should be an agreeable wife to you, Siegfried. A pretty thing. Her meekness just means you won't ever have to beat her for her nagging. But, I've found the occasional slap is a good reminder."

My lips thinned and Thorkell spotted the look and hid a smirk. It was a normal thing for a man to beat a woman and a rarer thing for a woman to beat a man. It wouldn't be wrong to say that it was expected. But I had seen the love between my father, mother, and Ida. My father had never once taken a hand to either of them. Some might call him weak for enduring arguments that he could settle with a slap, but I didn't think so.

That's what I wanted. I imagine it's what Jill would want to.

"Wait, Siegfried, have you ever been with a girl?" Havi asked me, making my face burn, which was answer enough for him. "Really?"

"I'm going to be married," I pointed out, but even Thorfinn was on Havi's side. There was a small lurch as the wind caught the sail. In an instant, it went from a loose canvas to catching a powerful wind. Thorkell looked over at the water over the side, a puzzled look on his face as he reached his hand into the water.

Blistering Speed. I had almost forgotten it, but it was seeing its first use at sea. As promised, the wind was pushing us forward and even a current was helping us along. Thorkell looked at me, but I didn't meet his gaze as I listened to Thorfinn.

"You should know at least a dozen women before you wed. And it's not like you only have to bed my sister. Gods, I would go mad if I only ever fucked my wife. What would I have done in the past few weeks?" He questioned, earning a laugh from Havi. "Do you even know how it works? The process?" He asked me and I nodded. I had seen enough sex to know what went where.

Though, that didn't stop him from giving specifics.

Blistering Speed cut a three-day trip into two and it still felt like it took too long. I knew far more about Thorfinn's exploits with women than I ever wanted to. The same with Havi. He and Thorfinn got along well. Better than Thorfinn and I did, at any rate.

Regardless, a day later, we were sailing into the welcoming port of Alabu. A crowd gathered to welcome us back home and they cheered as we set foot on the docks. Then they saw the amount of treasure that spilled out from chests that couldn't close because they were so packed and the cheering became deafening. Jarl Horrik was celebrated as a returning hero, even though it had been less than a month since we set sail.

The army disembarked, some pulling their ships on the sandy beach. However, it couldn't be denied that we were returning home with far fewer men than we set out with. We set sail with some odd thousand and we returned with just over six hundred. Four hundred men.

"What's going to happen to them?" I asked Thorkell, spotting a woman that covered her hands with her face as someone spoke softly to her. She looked young. Old enough to be a wife. And to be a widow.

"They'll survive off of the bride price they got when they were married. If they haven't already spent it. The young ones will find another man to marry. The older ones will hopefully have children to rely on," He answered, offering a small shrug, not caring about it one way or the other.

I mulled that over, seeing the importance of the bride price now. If I had fallen in battle, and Jill and I were married, then… then she would have been forced to use that money for survival. To raise the children if we had any. To rely on our families. "And if they don't?"

Thorkell was silent at that, and I knew his answer. "Have the men learn the families that fell. I want to give them some money -- a few coins." I told him, glancing up at Thorkell to see he had a serious expression on his face.

"It's your call, but I wouldn't recommend it. You give handouts once and they'll expect them for the rest of your life. You made a good amount of wealth, no one is denying that, but you can't provide for everyone," He told me. And I saw the truth in his words, but…

It would make me feel better. Because the men that I had killed, their families would be facing the same crisis. In battle, I had no problem with killing. But condemning women and children to starve didn't settle well with me.

"Do it. I'll give them a coin," I decided. Not a great amount, but they wouldn't go hungry in the following weeks. Thorkell nodded, obeying the order without complaint. It would have to wait for later because we were brought into the longhouse. Jarl Horrik took his seat, while his wife Oydris kissed him on the lips to celebrate his return.

And that was when the celebrations began. The wine that was looted from the church was brought out and cracked open, filling curved horns and mugs. Animals that were brought for the feast were sacrificed and cooked while the pilfered cheese, fruits and berries were arranged on platters. The entire city was getting involved, including the warriors that had returned. Stories were being told of the battles and I heard at least a dozen different interactions already. Some of them I couldn't even recognize as the battles I fought in.

However, I heard the name Wolf-Kissed many times on people's lips. The number of times was about equal to how many toasts I had to do, each time drinking deeply from my horn and the sweet wine within. I ordered mead or ale, but wine wasn't bad either. Before long, my face started to feel numb from the drink, and to keep my wits, I started taking smaller sips.

It was a fine feeling to be celebrated. To be lavished with attention and praise. I never imagined the taste of victory could be so sweet. During the feast, I played games like wrestling, which I won, archery, which I also won, then drinking competitions that I lost. Mostly because my stomach was already full of wine before I even started.

"Wolf-Kissed! Wolf-Kissed! Where are you?!" I heard someone shout. I ignored it mostly because I heard my name mentioned so many times, but when people started putting me on the back, I realized it was Jarl Horrik that was shouting my name. I stood up from the bench I sat on -- which I don't recall sitting down at -- but Jarl Horrik waved me over. "There you are! Come on up here!"

I slowly made my way over, noticing all eyes were on me, including Father's, so I tried to not seem like a drunk fool. Even if my feet were determined to feel like wood blocks. All the while, Jarl Horrik continued. "The story is one you've probably heard already to the point it's already overstayed its welcome, but it's worth repeating one last time! The story of the hill of arrows," he decided.

I turned to look out at the crowd, all of them looking at me. I looked down at myself to make sure I was presentable to see that at some point I had spilled wine on my tunic. When did that happen?

"The arrows damn near blotted out the sun," Jarl Horrik said and it felt like I had missed the beginning part of the story. "They fell upon us like they were rain, our shields splintering like driftwood, there were so many. Our archers fell one by one until it was only Siegfried the Wolf-Kissed that stood alone. I watched him move out of the way of arrows that would have struck him dead.-"

I blinked and my vision began to grow hazy. I blinked it away to listen to the story, but when I heard the words, it felt like I missed another chunk. "I've never seen anything like it. The rest of us protected ourselves with our shields and prepared ourselves for our chosen day. Yet, Siegfried threw his hands out wide open, inviting the Franks to challenge our gods' might and protection! Every single arrow missed him -- every one! Oh, they came close. A good dozen nearly struck him dead, but nearly isn't enough, now is it?!" Jarl Horrik shouted and the crowd sounded… distant?

I looked to them to see that they hadn't moved anywhere. Yet, for some reason, it felt as if my ears were full of water. Licking my lips, I found my mouth dry. Bringing the horn to my lips, I wetted my mouth with the bitter wine. It tasted of vinegar… when did we run out of the good wine?

"Yet the gods decided that it was not Siegfried's chosen day. The arrows landed all around him and the Franks! Oh, I cannot describe the stench of shit that came from five thousand Frank warriors!" There was some laughing at that while I swallowed thickly, my vision going blurry again. Was this what it was like to be drunk? Beyond feeling a bit lightheaded?

How could anyone stand this? I felt awful.

"Then he charged the enemy, running down the hill like he intended to kill them all himself. He might have, but I didn't want him to have all the glory-" Jarl Horrik cut himself off when his attention snapped to me. Not because of anything I did, beyond getting my horn smacked out of my hand and spilling its contents over the floor.

Blinking slowly, I saw it was Jill. "Hel-gerk," I grunted, finding my tongue incredibly clumsy in my mouth. Jill didn't respond.

"He's been poisoned!" She shouted, and I opened my mouth to protest that I was just a little extremely drunk, but when she reached out to me, my legs chose that moment to give out from underneath me. I half collapsed onto her, my head swimming as I found it hard to breathe. It felt like no matter how deep of a breath I took, too little air made it into my lungs.

The response to her shout was instant. I saw Thorkell jump to his feet while Father did as well. Father grabbed the horn while Jarl Horrik was shouting for everyone to calm down. I struggled to stand on my own two feet, but my vision was darkening. I had been poisoned? Who had poisoned me?

No, not… not the time, I thought as I obeyed Emergency Aid and unceremoniously stuck my fingers down my throat and emptied my stomach over the dirt floor. I heard shouting all around me, drowning Jarl Horrik's demands for everyone to settle down. "Sorry, about your dress," I muttered, seeing that I had gotten some vomit on Jill's dress.

"What?" She asked me and I realized I had spoken in Latin. And maybe Germanic? I couldn't tell or remember. Swallowing the taste of vomit, I did feel a bit better. "We have to get you out of here," Jill decided, dragging me to the door and it was only then that I noticed that my warband had formed up around me.

"Who…?" I questioned her, limping forward as my head began to pound. My breathing still felt too hard for how much air entered me. Jill didn't respond and simply kept moving. I guess she didn't hear me. When I heard a shout behind me, I tried to turn around, only for my head to swim before everything went dark. The last thing I heard was Jill shouting for me to wake up.

His son had been poisoned. The thought of it filled Erik's veins with white hot rage as they retreated from the building. Havi spoke of a Morrigan, the witch of the wilds that had helped save his son when he had been attacked by a pack of wolves, who could save him. He seemed certain of it.

Erik searched the crowd for the poisoner. The one that tried to take another one of his son's from him. "Have you no shame?!" He roared at the crowd, Horrik's rage matching his own. "Poison? Reveal yourself to me, coward!" Erik screamed at the crowd, who demanded the same. His son was popular with the men. Many understood that if it wasn't for him, they wouldn't have the prizes that they did. Odds were, they would still be outside Sigiburg to this day.

The losses Siegfried avoided in that siege made it possible to win those battles, then sack Cologne. They knew that. Which is why Erik couldn't pick out the nithing that tried to assassinate his son. All the faces looked disgusted or horrified or furious. Erik looked to his lifelong friend, almost pleading for help.

Horrik's expression was thunderous. The number of times Erik has seen Horrik work himself up in such a rage could be counted on one hand with a few fingers left over. "No one leaves! Jill, get your arse back in here!" He roared, trembling with rage. "No one dares leave until I know who tried to murder a guest of honor UNDER MY ROOF!" he bellowed, throwing his cup at the crowd that hit some unfortunate sod in the face.

Siegfried's warband continued on despite the Jarl's order, but Jill returned, as did Havi. The latter looked utterly bewildered. Jill, however, wore a mask of fury that matched his own. You'd think they had been married for so long they'd be sick of each other instead of barely being betrothed.

"Who? How did you know?!" He demanded of his daughter and the shouts in the longhouse died down just enough for Jill to voice her answer. But, first, Erik saw her take a glance at Havi, and his heart sunk like a stone. It couldn't be-

But, when Jill spoke, he almost wished that it had been his son Havi that tried to kill Siegfried.

"I knew because Thorfinn told me I wouldn't be married!" She shouted at the top of her lungs, making sure that the entire longhouse heard her. Erik's gaze snapped to Thorfinn, who appeared stunned at the accusation.

"I said no such thing! The bitch is lying!" He shouted, jumping from his seat to point an accusatory finger at her. "I welcomed Siegfried to the family, you dimwitted whore!" He shouted back at her and the entire longhouse descended into pure chaos. People were shouting this and that, but Erik deafened his ears to it. He only looked to Horrik, his age-old friend. The man that gave him a farm. That he fought beside in so many battles.

And Erik saw it.

Horrik looked to Thorfin. His son. He was surprised… but not shocked.

Thorfinn tried to murder Siegfried. He had Kirk murdered. Horrik didn’t know about the former but he knew about the latter.

"It was you!" He shouted, veins bulging in his neck as he pressed forward. Horrik looked to him, his eyes narrowed into slits, but he didn't care. He pressed on to Thorfinn, despite the number of bodyguards that he had surrounded him. The coward. He couldn't even fight his own battles.

It was as if his body had a will of its own, his actions guided by the gods because he pressed forward to Thorfinn and he saw fear in Horrik's oldest son. "You murdered my son! You nithing! I demand justice! I challenge you!" Erik screamed at the top of his lungs, getting shoved back by the men guarding Thorfinn. His rage grew in his chest. "I'll tear out your eyes and fuck your skull until you die!"

"I didn't do anything! Father! Stop him," Thorfinn shouted, backing up until his back hit the wall of the longhouse. Erik, despite his fury, looked at Horrik. The man who knew that his son had murdered one of his own. Who knew all along. And now he had nearly murdered another of his children.

Horrik met his gaze evenly, the rage having left his friend as he realized who the true culprit was. His gaze flickered to his Hel-spawn of a son that couldn't even kill a man in a duel so he resorted to poison. Erik saw Horrik make his decision, "Seize them both!" He shouted, and Erik saw red. He knew what this meant.

He had seen Horrik play the same trick so many times. Did his friend think he didn't know him? After so many years?

Having them both restrained meant he could choose which one of them was at fault. He would have his men spread false words and vile poison in the ears of the people. So, when he gave the verdict that Horrik wanted, the crowd would support it with great cheer.

The fact that Horrik didn't approve of the holmgang told Erik all that he needed to know.

With a roar that sounded like it couldn’t come from a man ripping from Erik's throat, he lunged forward, slamming a meaty fist into the face of some barely bearded youth, flattening his nose and rattling every tooth in his skull. His other hand went to his seaxe at his belt and Erik pulled it free just as the other guard lunged for him and his dagger caught the man in the throat. Thorfinn's eyes widened as Erik came for the boy -- a creature with no honor. That hid behind the name of his father. A coward that he was going to rape to death for the murder of his boy Kirk. Barely a man.

"Stop this!" Horrik demanded, going for Erik as he intended to slit the boy's throat. Come what may. Havi was a smart boy, so he would have run by now. He-

Erik heard a clash behind him, and Havi didn't have half of the wits that Erik thought he did, but it made him damn proud to see Havi slay a man that intended to drive a knife between his ribs. Havi would die. Erik knew it. Just as he knew that he would die.

But only fools feared death. It came for all men. Today was just their day to die.

Erik roared and his son roared with him as the longhouse descended into violence. People threw punches and kicks, some picking up arms but Erik paid them no mind. A man lunged for him so Erik punched him in the side of the head, stepping over the table that separated him from the frog-spawn from him. Thorfinn dove to the side, going for a knife, but Erik was faster, his boot taking him in the ribs. Erik felt a pinch in his side, and he saw the knife belonged to Freyja, Horrik's first wife and the mother of his son's murderer. He backhanded her hard enough that her head snapped to the side.

Taking another step forward, he stomped on Thorfinn's leg, snapping it. He screamed until Erik seized him by the throat, taking his dagger before slashing it across Thorfinn's eyes. The boy turned his head to the side at the last second, so he only cut one of them out. Erik was ready to take out the other when he felt a familiar weight slam into him, knocking him away from the piece of liquid shit that murdered his son.

"Damn you, Erik! Damn you for this!" Horrik shouted at him, driving a seaxe deep into Erik's gut. Erik grunted before he slammed his forehead into Horrik's nose, then punched him. He had always been the stronger of the two. And he proved it by punching him in the face a second time, knocking a tooth free. Horrik stumbled back, ripping the seaxe from Erik's guts. Both men bare their bloody teeth at each other, decades of friendship ended with a single decision.

But, Erik's attention was stolen when out of the corner of his eye, he saw Havi be stabbed in the throat. Erik's heart dropped as his son did, knowing that he would die didn't prepare him for witnessing it. Havi’s hands went to his throat, but he more than proved his bravery by stabbing his killer in the stomach. A slow wound that would surely kill him. His son gargled on his blood before falling to the floor, gasping for a moment before going still. He clenched his teeth, but at the moment that his attention faltered by witnessing the death of another one of his children, Horrik wasn't idle.

He felt a pinch in his chest and Erik had enough experience with killing to know the blade had found his heart. Slowly, he looked to Horrik, his gaze meeting his old friends. There was remorse, there. But resolve.

"I curse you," Erik spat blood on his face, fighting to remain on his feet as the strength bled out of him. "I curse you. I curse your family. May… you never be welcomed into Odin's hall. I curse you.. to forever… to… wander the earth. After… my son...my...son…" the words failed him as his vision darkened, his strength failing him.

The last thing Erik felt was his body falling… yet he never felt the impact.

Comments

Lynxarius

God damn, this story is always so fucking good. Can't wait for the next chapter.