Legends Never Die: Setting Course (ch. 18) (Patreon)

My brothers were burnt together in a large pyre -- Brandr and Tormod. The others helped me build the pyre, and in a solemn silence, we gathered the bones. I had them buried where the bones of my grandparents and brother were laid to rest. Brandr and Tormod joined them. Only the bones of Havi and Father were missing.

I hoped the dead wouldn’t mind. Just as I hoped they were all reunited in Valhalla. All of my brothers had died well -- they died defending their family, giving the women and children time to escape. They showed courage and honor. I whispered a silent prayer to the gods, begging for a quest to ensure that they would be welcomed into Odin’s hall.

And my request was granted.

“Gods,” I heard Thorkell breathe as we stood before the grave of my family, looking at the source of a twig breaking. A gentle wind brought the sound to us, as well as the low snarl that sounded familiar. Raising to my feet, I met the one-eyed gaze of a familiar wolf. Its black pelt let it blend in with the heavy shadows, and it was only the low light from the torches that the others held so that we could dig the graves that I could see it at all.

Slowly, it stepped into the light, its face pulled back into a snarl, revealing large white teeth. I felt utterly exhausted. As if my emotions had been scooped out of me. Because of that, when I met the gaze of the wolf that had given me the scar on my neck, I could only say, “You’ve gotten bigger,” I told the wolf. The little light I saw it under proved as much.

It had been a big wolf, but now it was more of a small poney. Through its dark pelt, I could see the flexing muscle underneath, its claws digging into the soft dirt.

“Is that-” Morrigan started, realizing who the wolf was. “Your nickname is a poor one. T’is no mere wolf. You should be known as Fenrir-Kissed,” she remarked, keeping her voice even, but not enough that I couldn’t hear the note of fear in her words. I didn’t respond as I gazed upon the wolf, noting a tuft of white fur that stood out against the black fur. It also followed the scar that I gave it when I took its eye.

The gods heard my prayer.

Reaching out with a hand, I placed it over my armband. “Before all the gods, and all of you, I will make this vow -- that wolf shall die by my hand. It is a test of the gods and I will prove myself worthy of my vengeance.” I spoke, making everyone tense, but I didn’t care. Vengeance was a sacred cause, yet there were more important things like making sure that all the souls of my family met again in Valhalla. Kirk… I worried for Kirk. His throat had been slit from behind before he had a chance to prove his valor.

Fenrir growled at me, drool dripping from his fangs. I heard the rest of its pack before I saw the light reflect in their eyes. Over a dozen. Twice over. Three times. It had replaced all the wolves lost in our battle and his pack grew to near fifty in total. The others readied their weapons, but I didn’t. I just stared into the lone golden eye of the wolf, unflinching as Fenrir seemed to gaze right through me.

Fenrir was looking for weakness. He found none.

The old wolf slunk back into the shadows, all but vanishing from sight in the darkness. However, only when the glint that marked his eye in the darkness faded did I trust that he was gone. The forest was silent in the wake of the wolf pack and it was only broken by Thorkell letting out a deep breath. “Siegfried, I can’t tell if you’re blessed by the gods or cursed by them,” he admitted and, despite myself, a grim chuckle escaped me before I turned away.

“Neither can I,” I said, walking away from the grave of my family. It was tempting to look back. But, there was no point in it. My gaze was affixed to the future and what it would bring.

…

There was treasure in the other boat that we seized from the raiders. Their own personal belongings, but also a chest that was filled with shiny stones, some silver, and most shocking, a lot of gold. Morrigan informed me that my brother had found it when he was unearthing trees. The old man that originally owned the farm had buried his hoard under one. The raiders had seized it when they raided my farm, and they also found my hiding place under the bed because I found the lockbox that had the precious stones and the magic piece of metal within.

We split the crew between the two longboats -- normally, we couldn’t get away with such a thing as each one needed at least a dozen men to row them, but with the strong wind and the current, all that was really needed was to steer the ships.

“What do you intend to do?” Morrigan asked me as I nestled myself into the space at the front of the ship. It was late at night when we set sail, and many of the men were resting. Jill was nearby, sleeping. I thought Morrigan had been as well before she looked at me and asked the question that weighed heavily on my mind. "Fame, money, and an army. T'is not a simple thing to acquire them. If it was, then every fool with a sword would be famous and rich."

I pulled my blanket up higher so that it brushed underneath my chin. "We have a great deal of money at the moment, but it's not enough for an army. Or half of one. By the time we come back, Jarl Horrik will have an army of thousands. Five thousand or more." I said, my voice just over a soft whisper. "We need more."

"Evidently," Morrigan said, not sounding impressed by my dancing around the point. It might be brusque, but I appreciated it. More than everyone treating me like I might crumble at the slightest touch.

"My thoughts are that we have two methods of gaining money -- trade, and mercenary work," I spoke, frowning to myself. "They aren't mutually exclusive either. We use the money that we have available to us now to buy trade goods -- furs, precious stones, amber. Whatever would fetch a good price. Then, as we sell our skill in battle, we can sell the trade goods to our employers or those nearby."

Morrigan offered a small nod of her head, "And seize new ones."

That was true. "And raid for more trade goods," I agreed. "The more warriors we can support, the more we can hire, and the greater the plunder and contracts we can take."

"You found great wealth in a monastery, did you not? Raiding them would be a good source of trade goods," Morrigan said. Another good point. Churches had silver and gold. They also had candles, wine, silk, and velvet. Luxurious things that would surely sell well anywhere. It also helped that churches were filled with wealth yet so lightly guarded, their priests trusting their god for protection.

Jill shifted to look at us, proving that she hadn’t been asleep either. “Amber sells really well the further south you get,” she offered, making Morrigan and I look to her. “My- Jarl Horrik,” Jill seemed to catch herself, “dealt with a lot of merchants. I got to listen in sometimes. What they do is tell people false tales about amber so people will buy pieces of it for more. Some say it's solid drops from the sun, or magic stones. That kind of thing. It works best the further away you are from here.”

Where people didn’t know any better. Amber wasn’t exactly common, but it wasn’t rare. The fact that a piece of it had been mixed with the sapphire and the magic metal supported what Jill said.

“So, you are more than a tagalong. Come now, surely you have something else to offer?” Morrigan said, earning a sharp look from me that she missed as she narrowed her eyes at Jil, who seemed to shrink into her own blanket.

“Narwhal horns are sold as unicorn horns,” Jill provided, not looking at Morrigan. “They’re like small whales that have a really long horn jutting out of their heads. Whalebones are sold as the skeletons of great beasts -- dragons usually. Trading involves a lot of lying,” she observed, choosing to look at me for a moment before she looked away. “But, not all of it. Crafted goods always sell well too. Everyone always has need of tools.”

I leaned my head back. I knew how to smith and to shape wood. Both were valuable trades, though they needed me to stay in one place for a time. It wasn’t a trade that could be done on the move. Though, it did mean that repairs could be handled by myself.

“Trade the silver for horns, bones, and amber, then sell them. Raid monasteries for luxury goods, and more silver. It seems like a reliable method,” I decided. I was trying to picture what it would look like -- The narwhal horns, bones, and amber would have to be held until we reached far away. To Miklagard, possibly. Other goods could be sold to Jarls or other merchants along the way. “The question will be who we should fight for.”

“Can we not fight for King Sigfred? He’s my- Jarl Horrik’s enemy,” Jill said, and Morrigan scoffed.

“Simply call that rotten creature your father. The bonds of kin are not something so easily cast off, just because you would like them to be,” Morrigan said, making Jill frown. “Oh, I’m very sure that you mean what you say. Your father did not love you, your brother was so very unkind. But, that filth is your kin. You cannot escape it.”

Jill met Morrigan’s gaze with a glare. I said nothing because I found myself curious as well. Jill, in practice, abandoned her kin. Betrayed them, even. Even if it was for my benefit, I understood the reason why she could never return home -- she would be killed at best and ostracized at worst. If she lived, then everyone would hate her for betraying her kin. It was a taboo to not stand with your kin, even if they were wrong.

I meant what I said, I didn’t blame Jill for the actions of her father or brother. However, I did find it odd that she would choose me over them.

“You shouldn’t speak about things you don’t understand,” Jill muttered darkly, shifting under her blanket as if she were hugging her knees to her chest. “They might be my kin, but they have never been family,” she continued before she looked at me, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Before we were betrothed, I was promised to another. Do you remember that?” She asked, and I gave a slow nod.

“Jarl Horrik said he died,” I said, but Jill shook her head.

“Murdered,” she corrected, a sob lodged in her throat. “Egil. He didn’t come from a good family. His father was a drunk, and his mother died bearing him. He grew up in the city… he was my friend. We grew up together. I begged my mother to let me marry him when we came of age,” she said, her eyes growing wet. “Father had no use for me. I was the eighth daughter and all the alliances needed had been made already. My mother convinced him and we were betrothed…”

Her expression grew dark, “But Thorfinn always liked picking on Egil. He made fun of him -- called him weak, and told him that he acted like a little girl for playing with me. Egil never stood up to Thorfinn before… he wanted to impress me. To be a man and protect me. I didn’t want him to. I just wanted him to be himself because he made me happy. Thorfinn got angry and hit him. And he just kept hitting him -- I tried to get him to stop, but he just pushed me… then he grabbed a rock and smashed Egil’s head open.”

Jill looked at me, and I saw the sincerity in her eyes. “My brother is evil. Some foul spirit has taken hold of him and it will never let go. He doesn’t need a reason to hurt people or kill them… that’s why I was happy to be betrothed to you. I thought I could be happy.”

“Happiness is nothing, you love-struck girl. To betray your kin for happiness is to betray them for nothing. How can we expect to trust you-” Morrigan began, her voice beginning to rise, making Jill’s face twist and for a moment, I thought they might come to blows.

“Enough,” I interjected, the order coming out as a tired sigh, and to my faint surprise, Jill and Morrigan stopped. Even if they glared at one another. “Going to King Sigfred isn’t a bad idea, but I don’t know if he still lives. He was wounded badly during the last battle with the Franks. It would also put us near Jarl Horrik. I lost one brother on the field of battle because of a cutthroat nithing. I’m not keen on giving him more opportunities.”

The war between Saxony and the Franks was a good opportunity to make my reputation, to recruit more warriors, as well as get more silver and gold. It was about as good of an opportunity as I could hope for. I just really didn’t like working towards the same goal as Thorfinn or his father. Even if my concerns for the Franks winning the war still remained.

“Then King Widukind,” Morrigan said, and I thought about it. It still put me too close with Jarl Horrik and his family, but so far, the Saxon and Norse armies fought separately. And I think I had proven myself to him for him to consider hiring my warband.

I nodded, “King Widukind,” I agreed. After the war with the Franks, then we would head to Miklagard to sell our prizes. Perhaps find work there for a time. Maybe move on.

At the very least, I had four years before anyone would accept me as their king. Ability mattered, but no one wanted to be ruled over by a child. Meaning I had four or five years to develop the various domains of the gods. I had gained much in recent times. I lost other things, but in terms of gifts from the gods, I had progressed.

The next handful of years, I needed to progress more. In every domain. Diplomacy, Martial, Stewardship, Intrigue, and Learning. Especially Intrigue.

But, for now… “Let’s get some sleep,” I said, closing my eyes and urging the others to do the same. However, a second later, I opened my eyes to look at Jill. “I meant what I said, Jill. When we first met. That hasn’t changed,” I told her, earning a surprised expression but I turned away from her and closed my eyes.

When I dreamed, I saw the bodies of my family, those that I knew had fallen and those I did not, the crackling of fire, and the howl of a wolf.

…

Thorkell proved that he was a worldly man, I discovered over the next few weeks. We sailed north, up to a city called Oslo, where we began our trade journey. We exchanged some silver for trade goods and we even picked up another ten men when they heard about the wealth that we had. I didn’t trust them in the slightest, not yet, but our warband reached a respectable thirty-five men.

Thorkell and his band of men had been originally from Norway, and for many years, they fought for the various Jarls that claimed ownership of chunks of livable land. He said there was always plenty of work to be found in the land, and because of it, everywhere we went, the Jarls knew him. Sometimes he helped them win their Jarlship. Other times he had been an enemy, and we were quietly encouraged to leave as soon as we sailed into port.

Assess Value was a literal godsend for trading, I learned. Each item had three colors assigned to the mental price that appeared in my head. Green meant that it was a very good price. Black meant that it was an average price. Red meant that it was a poor price. Because of it, I bought things that had a green color with the price -- it could be pelts, grains, wool, mead, honey, and so on. Then, with each stop that we made, I sold what I could for a profit.

In some places I learned that there had been a better price for an item that I bought, meaning that I had overpaid. In other places, however, I found that I made a profit twice over what I paid. Silver was preferred, but other goods were also welcomed. Thorkell noted that I was a natural-born merchant. But, how he had said it, I was starting to wonder if he suspected that there was nothing natural about it at all.

However, it wasn’t all because of the gods. The further north that we went, sailing up the coast, I noticed a trend that stuff like pelts was more valued, as was honey and other foodstuffs. Likewise, other goods became cheaper. In one town, a heavy stones worth of salt would be worth its weight in silver, but in another, salt was about as worthless as snow. I was starting to get a sense of how being a merchant worked -- you bought things when they were cheap, then you could go to a place to sell it at a much higher price. There was a bit of guesswork as well because you didn’t know if what you bought would be worth the trip.

People had need for goods and how much the good was worth to them was decided by what they needed and how common it was.

Weeks passed and I found the ships slowly filling with trade goods while I grew bolder with my deals. Buying weapons and mead became a must in each town that I went to. We would be going to war, and I found that there were never enough weapons or mead. Likewise, I also found my hauls being filled with precious goods like amber, narwhal horns, precious stones, and whalebones.

Even before the large sell-off that I planned, I found that I already had more wealth than what I started with. I also found myself commanding two full ships of men, fifty in total now. The fresh faces were all understandably uncertain why I was the leader. Most of them, I suspected, assumed that Thorkell was the leader of the band and I was just someone with money. The others told them, but… they didn’t believe it.

That was fine with me. I didn’t care why they sailed with us, just that they did. We needed the men. It was the start of an army. With luck, they would soon learn why Thorkell decided to follow me.

With our full ships, we made our way to Saxony. Our destination was the Elba river, but we stopped by the town of Ribe for directions. There we learned a number of things.

“King Sigfred is dead?” I questioned, a deep frown on my face. To think, not so long ago, I would have welcomed the news. My only regret would have been that I hadn’t been the one to kill him. Now, it came as a grim bit of news. I had hoped that he would pull through. I hadn’t expected it, but I had hoped.

I stood in a market square in Ribe, a town that was in what had been King Sigfred’s territory. An old man nodded at me, looking sad about it. “Aye, he died from his wounds not a week ago. A fever took him.” To that, my lips thinned. I couldn’t have done anything to stop his death, but I couldn’t help but wonder what would have changed if I had had a different reaction when I stood outside of his tent -- instead of wanting to murder him, if I had offered advice on how to prevent a sickness… It was a pointless thought, but it was stuck in my head.

“What's to happen to his kingdom?” I asked him, looking at the man’s goods. Wood carvings. I didn’t need them, but I picked one and held up a silver coin. The old man smiled, revealing that he was missing some teeth. Silver, I found, had an almost magical power over people. I would know, because it had that same power over me.

“His son, Godfred, was in line to inherit the kingdom, but a few Jarls put forth their own sons as candidates. Jarl Horrik has been proving to be pretty popular as well. The warriors seem to like him,” the old man explained. “It’s shaping up to be a rough succession. Jarl Horrik is going to march on Godfred, so both are summoning their armies to fight. Other Jarls are looking to break off and become independent. At least, that’s what these old ears of mine hear.”

I passed him the silver coin, and with his few teeth, he bit it. He seemed surprised to see that it was real silver.

“What about Saxony?” I asked, making the man shrug. I started to go to my coin purse, but the man shook his head.

“I don’t know anything about Saxony. As far as I can tell, they’re being left to the mercy of the Franks,” he said, his dark eyes looking me over. “Warriors will be spoiled for choices on who to fight for. Godfred doesn’t have great chances, so he’d pay better. The Saxons… everyone says that the Franks have a rich land, but it’s guarded by many warriors.”

I nodded to myself, thinking it over, “Who are the mercenaries going to?” I asked, and earned another shrug.

“Godfred from what I’ve heard, but this is a town that knows him. Others might differ,” the old man said, looking surprised when I handed him another coin.

Walking away, I thought on what I had learned as Thorkell fell in step, “Does any of that change anything?” He asked me, and I wasn’t sure.

Saxony had been left out in the winter winds. King Widukind’s rebellion hinged on help from his Norse allies. Without them, then he would be fighting the Franks on his own, and while we got in a few early victories, I had seen the Frankish cities. I had heard about others too -- Aachen, Frankfort, and more. All said to be greater than the last. Being generous, the Saxons could muster five thousand men.

The Franks could likely muster twice that. Three times, even. Their warriors might be cowards, but I’ve learned that enough cowards can kill any brave man.

“King Widukind’s rebellion looks doomed,” I muttered.

“Godfred, then?” Thorkell asked as we walked through the market, my eyes drifting over the goods that were being sold. I saw plenty green, a few red, but mostly black in terms of worth. If only the god-gifted ability applied to everything like it did trading opportunities. It would make things so much simpler. “It would put us in direct conflict with Jarl Horrik. We could stop him from getting the crown.”

We could. I didn’t know anything about Godfred, but he was an enemy of Jarl Horrik and that made him a friend to me.

Yet… “I want him to become king,” I admitted to Thorkell, whose eyebrows climbed high. “He’s fought for it all of his life. It’s the one thing that he desires more than anything else in the world. I want him to have it. Only then can I take it from him,” I said, my voice dipping to a low growl.

Thorkell let out a low whistle, “I see. It’s not enough to kill him. You want to destroy him,” he noted, and I nodded without shame. I wanted him to hold the crown in his hands. I wanted him to wear it. I wanted him to know the sweet taste of victory, to savor it, and then I would take it all from him. I would destroy him so completely that the only reason anyone ever knew his name was because I had been the one to kill him. “Your desire for vengeance runs deep. Gods know that you deserve it. The plan remains the same, then?”

I nodded, “Aye, it remains the same. Being abandoned by his allies will make him more desperate and offer higher rates for mercenaries.” I said, earning a nod from Thorkell. He never really questioned my decisions. He would prod for my logic and why I did as I did, but he would never question them. I think he was pinning his hopes that I was blessed by the gods rather than cursed by them.

“Be silent you, you shrew!” I heard someone shout in the marketplace, and I grimaced when I knew who it was. Thorkell did as well, based on his laugh that seemed to come from the gut.

Several weeks at sea and I learned many things. Most important of all was that Jill and Morrigan could not stand each other. Morrigan would deliver barbed words whenever she could. Jill would endure for as long as she was able until enough became enough and a shouting match would begin.

“You’re a terror with an axe, silver flows through your hands like a river, and the wind is always at your back… but, not even the gods can make two women go a day without fighting,” Thorkell said, clapping me on the back while I just sighed. He wasn’t wrong there.

“Let’s just go before they break something.”

Our destination was set. It was time to return to the lands of the Franks.