Legends Never Die: Harsh Truths (ch. 20) (Patreon)

“You’re a great warrior,” Thorkell told me as we watched the people of Frankfort be led out of the city gates. King Widukind didn’t want them eating the food in case there was a siege. That wasn’t to say everyone had left the city. Many had been taken as thralls. Others were captives. And some were kept for the pleasure of men. “But, you’re a poor leader of men,” he said, earning a slow blink from me as I looked away from the angry tide of people forced to leave their homes with nothing but the clothes on their backs.

He didn’t look at me, just crossing his arms over his chest as he continued to watch the thousands of people being evicted. However, he did elaborate. “I understand why you did what you did. With your size, strength, and speed -- only a seasoned warrior could hope to best you. And only if you didn’t kill them immediately. But, there’s more to being a leader than being the strongest. Or even the most cunning.”

I clenched my jaw, feeling irritation surge in my chest at the criticism. “Have people complained of my leadership? Do you regret your vow to me?” I asked him, an edge in my tone that he picked up on. He gave me a flat gaze, only looking at me with his eyes instead of his face. It reminded me of my father. The reminder didn’t help quell my anger.

“You’re putting words in my mouth,” Thorkell told me, his tone even. “The warriors? They love you. You make them feel like they can’t lose. And that’s a dangerous thing in itself, but it’s not what I mean,” Thorkell said, letting out a small sigh. “A good leader, a great one, is always at the front. For him to lead, everyone has to be looking at his back. But, they can’t do that if you’re so far ahead that they can’t even see you.”

My lips thinned, “I had to open the gates.” I felt compelled to point out, not really seeing why he was calling me a bad leader. I made the victory possible.

“You did,” Thorkell agreed. “And in doing so , you saved a lot of lives. But, where was I in the fighting?” He asked me, and… I didn’t know. “Where were the rest of your men?” I didn’t know. I know they were fighting on the walls after I made a foothold, but after that, I lost track of them. I hadn’t seen Thorkell in the fighting at all. Or any other familiar face. “I’m not telling you that you did the wrong thing. I can’t really say one way or the other. Maybe if you stuck with us, the fighting would have been way worse and we might not have taken the city. I don’t know. Only the gods and norns do.”

He took in a deep sigh before letting it out, “What I know is that you weren’t there to lead the men, even if you were leading the charge. We didn’t fight as a warband. We just fought like fifty individuals. Because of it, we lost ten men.” I frowned deeply, looking back at the Franks leaving the city. “We’ll replace them easily enough. But, they were good men.”

My anger bled away. It didn’t vanish entirely, but Thorkell had made his point well. I hadn’t known that we lost anyone. In that regard, I was a poor leader. I hadn’t spared a thought about my men, where they were, or how they were faring. My attention had been focused on opening the gate and making sure that it opened so we could win the battle.

I didn’t think that had been the wrong choice. Opening the gate was the priority. However, I did find myself agreeing with Thorkell. I had all but abandoned my men for my own glory and for victory. I didn’t think about them. I didn’t think that they would be looking to me for guidance only to realize I was nowhere to be seen.

“I’m sorry,” I told him, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Thorkell smile ever so slightly. “I’ll do better.” How, I wasn’t sure yet, but I could surely do better than up and abandoning my men.

“I know you will,” Thorkell told me. “The Norse warriors suffered the worst of the battle. Losses were light for such an assault, barely a hundred men. But, they aren’t happy with being treated as fodder for the Saxons,” he explained, not sounding too happy about it either.

I hadn’t known that. “Why would King Widukind use us as fodder?” I asked Thorkell, earning a shrug from him.

“Dead mercenaries don’t need to be paid is my guess,” Thorkell answered. “His allies are fighting it out instead of helping him. So, he’s having to pay for extra bodies. The more die in liberating Saxony, the less of a bill he’d be footing when he becomes a king in earnest. It’s what I would do.” That made sense, I thought to myself. My parents raised me to be honorable. To do the right thing, always. However, I was starting to see that doing the smart thing and the right thing were often two different things.

“I saw a lot of Norsemen. Do you know how many there are?” I asked, and Thorkell shook his head.

“A thousand? Probably less than that now,” He answered. “Want me to find out?”

“Please,” I agreed. It would be important to know. I didn’t expect all of them to be willing to follow me. I didn’t even expect half. But, if a hundred decided to join me, either for pay or belief, then I would have a hundred and fif- forty men. If I could figure out how to lead them well, how Thorkell said I should, then I would have the beginnings of an army. Nothing had to be decided now. We still had the war to fight and win. However, it was worth keeping in mind as things progressed.

That the Norse warriors could be potential allies when it was all said and done.

Thorkell nodded and left, leaving me alone as I watched the stream of Franks. Some cast dark looks in my direction. I suspect at least one of them would cast a curse on me. I would have to speak to Morrigan about making sure that it didn’t take hold. I’m sure that those that could would be joining King Charlemagne’s army to retake their home. King Widukind desired for the Franks to come to him, to siege the city.

It seemed contrary to his plan to win the war, but if he had a reason why, he didn’t share it with me.

Regardless of the problems, I had gained much from the sacking. The foodstuffs were being hoarded for the siege to come, but I still gained a great deal. Casks of wine, velvet banners, silver and gold, candles, precious jewels, and so on. All valuable. I had really underestimated what a full share of a sacking would look like. I did give my men a reward to keep them happy, and it seemed like it worked. Which was why I was so caught off guard when Thorkell called me a poor leader.

In terms of profits, I was going to need a third boat to carry my riches to Miklagard. As for advancing my understanding of the gods’ domains, I had reached another milestone in Tactics, Physical Condition, Economic Management, and Asset Management.

Tactics

Spatial Awareness:

During a battle, you become aware of everything within a hundred paces around you.

Balance of Power:

On the eve of battle, the odds of victory are displayed, considering all factors such as troop quality, discipline, and numbers. Useful for knowing when to avoid a battle.

Balance of Power seemed useful, but too many times, I had been blinded by my height. By a sea of bodies. Where I was fighting with all of my might, but I had absolutely no idea if we were winning or losing. A hundred paces wouldn’t give me an overview of the overall battle, but it was a start. One that I desperately needed.

Physical Condition

Well Groomed:

You will never have to worry about white teeth or combing your hair. Your grooming needs will never be a cause for concern in any shape or fashion.

Iron Stomach:

You gain nutrients from everything you eat. Gives base resistance to poisoning.

I really didn’t see the point of Well Groomed. I hardly combed my hair now, and I only brushed my teeth with a chewstick when my mouth felt too dirty. It seemed like a waste of a perk point. Iron Stomach, however, made it so I wouldn’t be poisoned again and I could eat anything if I could stand the taste. I don’t see how anyone could pick the former over the latter.

From my various trades, some of which happened after the sacking, I managed to get another Economic Management boon.

Economic Management.

Trade Secrets:

A real-time list of places visited that displays the price of owned items -- both for what they would sell for and how much it would be to buy.

Opportunity Spotter:

At times, a profitable opportunity in your area will be brought to your attention -- A group or city might desperately need an item, such as a herd of horses or a component needed for dyes, and they would be willing to pay exuberant rates for whatever you deliver.

Both were good. However, I intended to travel for a number of years. I wanted to put space between me and Jarl Horrik to prevent him from interfering with my quest for vengeance. To that end, Opportunity Spotter would suit me better for now. I selected it with little hesitation.

Asset Management

What Lays Within:

When working on an object -- wood, metal, or mineral -- what the material can be will always be clear.

Sterling:

All assets have an improved appearance.

Neither were particularly useful, but What Lays Within caught my attention. It would help with my crafting, which had, unfortunately, fallen to the wayside with the battles. Given that we were about to be put under siege, it seemed to be a good time to find a way to make up for the lost time. With my decision made, I confirmed my choices. It had taken me longer to decide than I thought, because the gates were being closed to prevent the Franks from getting back inside.

There were scouts being sent out of the city to keep an eye on Aachen. I personally hadn't seen anyone escape the city, but I'm sure some had. If not, then the villages from the surrounding area would have certainly sent word to King Charlemagne that we had taken Frankfort. How he would react was anyone's guess, but the scouts were meant to report troop movements if they moved. King Charlemagne already knew that we were at Frankfort. The only thing that changed was that King Widukind intended to fight behind tall walls.

Turning away from the gate, I headed to the nearest guard tower and headed down the stairs to the ground level. Without the sounds of shouting from the Frankish citizens, the city was already a lot quieter. My cloak fluttered behind me as I decided to walk the city, not quite sure what I was looking for beyond that I needed to move to help me sort through my thoughts. Signs of damage were common, and I knew that came from the raiding after we took the city. Doors were kicked in, one house was burnt to cinders and it was nothing short of the will of the gods that half the city hadn't gone up in flames.

The dirt roads were largely empty as well, though I could hear sounds of merriment coming from within houses. The handful of warriors of our army that I did see straightened up the moment that they did so. There was respect and awe in their faces while whispers were on their lips the moment I stepped past them. Rumors were already spreading. By the end of the month, I suspect I will have taken the city single handedly.

A slight smile tugged at my lips. I wonder how Horrik and his son would react when they at long last heard the rumors of my deeds? Would they quake in fear? Would they wonder why I was here instead of taking their heads?

My gaze drifted up the walls that I found myself surrounded by -- the walls of Frankfort. "Live in fear. Die in terror," I uttered under my breath, hoping the gods would take the curse and whisper it in the ears of them both.

I wasn't really expecting a response, but when I heard my name being called out, I nearly leaped out of my skin. "Lord Siegfried!" I heard, and glancing over, I saw it was Otto. There was a hesitant smile on his face as he greeted me, a familiar simple wood cross resting on his chest and his drab robes seemed like they had seen better days. Though his scalp was freshly shaved. "I had hoped to see you, Lord Siegfried. I wished to thank you for upholding your word."

He hadn't meant to, but the words were offensive. That, I thought, was due to my short temper and foul humor. "I gave you my word," I responded, my tone curter than I intended. To that, Otto bowed his head to me.

"One's word is freely given, but I have found that it is rarely kept," Otto responded. "I have also been tasked with seeing you -- Duke Ageric Roding has requested your presence to discuss the matter of his…release." That earned my full attention. Ransoming Ageric had been extremely profitable for me before. It still seemed absurd to me that a single man could be worth more than all of the thralls taken by an army, but if the Franks were willing to pay that price… I would be more than happy to take that silver from them.

"Where is he?" I questioned, gesturing for Otto to lead the way.

"The church, my lord," Otto informed, leading me back to the church where I had extracted the surrender of the city. "I pray that God has been kind to you since we last met?" Otto began, deciding to make conversation as we walked.

My jaw clenched. "Less than," I answered curtly.

"Then I am sorry to hear it," Otto responded, and Tell Spotter didn't detect a lie in his words. My faith in the ability was shaken harshly. Especially when it had so spectacularly failed to catch Horrik in a lie. Or detect that Thorfinn had my brothers murdered as he made idle conversation or acted friendly. That, I was forced to face, was because both sidestepped telling lies.

How they did so differed, I think. Horrik managed it by misleading me in hindsight -- everything that he said about King Sigfred was true to some degree. There were a lot of small things in hindsight that gave it away. How he raged at his son the day after Kirk's murder -- I thought it was because he was humiliated by King Sigfred, but the anger was at his son. The talk that we had after I made my accusations about King Sigfred -- the plan he uttered…

Tell Spotter was not all-powerful. I was a fool to think that it was.

Which is why it was so troubling that Tell Spotter didn't get anything from Otto. As far as I could tell, he genuinely meant his words. "Do you not hold a grudge against me? It would be in your right to," I responded as we walked, watching the priest carefully. I raided his church, captured him, used what he taught me against his fellow Christians, ransomed him, then ended up capturing him again. Fate had a sense of humor, but it would be understandable for him to hold anger in his heart for me. Much less offer what seemed to be sincere condolences.

"Ill will is a poison of the soul, Lord Siegfried," Otto responded, aiming a small smile down at me.

"Most allow their souls to be poisoned," I responded. Myself included.

To that, Otto let out a warm chuckle. "Perhaps. And there was a time that I was one of them, early on. I harbored anger for you and your compatriots -- for all the slaughter and pillaging. I doubted and feared. The fool that I was, I questioned God and his plan. Lamenting what was lost."

The words rang with a hint of truth to them, "Something changed?"

"I like to believe I did," Otto admitted. "Everything moves in accordance with the will of God. All is within his plan and only He knows what is to come and what shall be. I may not understand what my role in his plan may be, but I have endeavored to fulfill it to my utmost ability. Duke Ageric had taken me in as a priest and advisor, and I have offered what little wisdom I possess. Now, it seems that God has deemed that we be reunited."

The attitude wasn't unfamiliar to me. "You speak of fate and the norns," I said, nodding to myself. The norns were the weavers of fate. Something fundamental and inescapable. Something even the gods were bound by. There were many that some as Otto did. I found the attitude a puzzling one, but not disagreeable.

"I speak of the will of God," Otto corrected.

I grunted, thinking to myself that his God had seized the credit for the work of the norns. However, in the end, they were both the same thing -- Fate had decided that we should meet again. For what purpose? Only the norns would know.

It was then that the church came into view at the very heart of the city. Something I noticed was similar in Cologne. A well was before it in a small central square that had a few warriors around it, keeping an eye on one of the remaining groups of Franks still within the city. They watched me with a sense of awe as we approached the church to find the doors were wide open, revealing half a hundred Franks that were either bound or injured or both. This was where King Widukind decided to house the wealthy hostages.

They, I found, did not look upon me with kindness. Many seemed surprised that I didn't burst into flames the moment I stepped inside. "This way, my lord," Otto said, leading me to the back of the church to what amounted to a closet. It had since been converted to a private room for Duke Ageric. It hadn't been that long since I last saw him, but I noticed that his face was much paler and shiny with sweat.

"Siegfried Erikson," Ageric uttered, resting upon a cot of hay with a blanket over his lap. "Forgive me for not bowing. You were the one that broke my leg, after all." It would seem that Ageric had allowed some poison into his soul.

"You are forgiven," I responded, making his eyes narrow at me. "You wished to speak of your release?"

In response, Ageric reached out to a table next to him, grabbing a goblet of what seemed to be wine. His hand trembled ever so slightly as he brought it up to his lips, drinking deeply from it. Once his thirst was quenched, and he made me wait, he spoke. "A start to negotiations."

I tilted my head to the side, "You were traded for two hundred pounds of silver once before. Are you saying that your value has gone down?" I questioned, grabbing a stool by the bed and taking a seat.

"Have a care of how you speak, heathen," Ageric snapped at me, but even as he did, he sounded tired. "I have… been reaffirmed as Duke of Frisia by King Charlemagne himself. As Duke, I have a duty to my people and I shall not despoil them any further with my shame. I brought you here to tell you that ten pounds of silver is all you shall see from me for my immediate release and that of Otto." He drew himself up as he spoke, glowering at me, but the image was undercut by a head of sweat falling into his eye.

He seemed unwell.

With how little he was offering? I think he was very unwell. "Ten pounds of silver? I thought you were a very valuable hostage. Will your people not pay for your release?"

"They have already done so. They will not do so again. Ten pounds of silver. If not, then slit my throat now and be done with it," Ageric snapped at me, a hand going to the goblet once again, only his hand knocked it over. He cursed, going to grab it, but Otto quickly crossed the distance and did so for him, buying me a moment to think. Ten pounds of silver wasn't an inconsiderate sum, but it was a very far cry from the two hundred pounds that I had hoped to get for him.

"I will not part with you for anything less than a hundred," I told him outright. That was what he was worth.

Ageric laughed, "Then I shall bite my tongue off and damn myself to an eternity of hell. It was a mistake to pay the ransom in the first place. I have a brother. Upon my death, he shall become Duke, and I pray that he is the one that sees you dead." He continued, his tone bitter and hostile.

I did underestimate Ageric, I think. I didn't think of him as a coward, but I underestimated how stubborn he could be. One thing, however, didn't quite add up. "Or, you don't wish for your brother to pay for the life of a dying man," I responded and Ageric flinched. Standing up, I grabbed the bed cover and ripped it away and, almost instantly, I was hit with the smell of rot.

The wound from the break wept puss, and it was inflamed harshly. It was bad enough that I was surprised that the bottom half of his leg hadn't already been removed. It was killing him. Looking at Ageric, if I had to guess, I would say it was his own stubbornness.

"The heathen thinks it's clever, Otto," Ageric snapped at me, baring his teeth. "Yes. I'm dying. Ten pounds of silver for a dying Duke seems a fair offer, does it not?"

I inspected the wound for a moment, thinking on it all. Ten pounds of silver for his immediate release. That told me that he already had ten pounds of silver somewhere. That was less important than the fact he was trying to immediately leave. "You're right. You wouldn't survive a siege," I remarked, making him scowl at me. "And the heathen does think it's clever." My gaze drifted over to Otto, who still clutched a pitcher of wine in his hands. "Clever enough that it realized it asked the wrong question."

That got the Duke's attention, and I answered the unspoken question in his eyes. "How much is your leg worth to you?"

"I… refuse to partake in your… vile magics. What would you have me do? Bathe in the blood of infants and howl at the moon?" He bit the words out, but I saw it in his eyes. Hope. Desperation. I think if I could prove it would work, then he actually would bathe in the blood of infants and howl at the moon if it meant he didn't die from an infection or have to live as a cripple. It made sense to me. It was better to die whole than live as a cripple for what life could a cripple lead?

Even as a Duke, I couldn’t imagine it would be a tolerable existence. Perhaps especially as a Duke.

"Think of it as your God's will," I replied. "Anyone else would slit your throat so at least then you could pass without pain. If its possible to save your leg and your life? Then I'm the one who could do it. So, I ask you, Duke Ageric, how much is your leg and life worth to you?"

Ageric scoffed, but it wasn't a convincing sound, "God led you to Frankfort, and allowed you to sack the city, all so you could save my leg?" He questioned, sounding like he didn't believe it.

I didn't either. No. This was the work of Fate. The norns provided an opportunity in the tapestry of my life and the means to seize it.

"I've been told your god works in mysterious ways," I answered. "You must be very important to his plan." Otto seemed extremely displeased with me, but he held his tongue and looked to the floor. I'm sure he truly regretted teaching me anything about his god.

Ageric licked his lips. "F-fifty pounds of silver."

I smiled in response.

He would pay me fifty pounds, but it wasn't in silver.

The price I extracted?

Fifty pounds of gold and precious stones.

…

“You seem pleased with yourself -- an enlightening conversation with that doddering priest?” Morrigan questioned, lounging in the villa that King Windukid gave us. Me. We shared it with the rest of the company, and in the halls, I could hear the men still celebrating our victory. Thorkell among them. The ordinarily plain room was richly decorated with blatant wealth that had been stolen from the wealthy around the city. Barrels of ale, bottles of wine, piles of candle sticks or trinkets.

Some were made of brass, copper, or wrought iron, but the craftsmanship in them made them worth something.

Where I found Morrigan was a small room that was lined with scrolls. Taking one, I unfurled it to see that they were written in Latin. My ability to speak the language was stilted and broken, but reading it was far more difficult. The only person that could that I knew would be Otto and I didn’t think he would want to speak to me any time soon. Setting the scroll down, and smudging the vellum with blood I looked at Morrigan to find her watching me carefully.

“I managed to get a good ransom,” I informed her, and I saw a ghost of a smile tug at her lips as she leaned back in her seat. “What brings you here?”

“T’is a question I should be asking you,” Morrigan responded, dodging the question as she left a scroll she had been looking at after furling it up. “We have taken this city, but as you have so adequately proven, keeping it will prove difficult. This Charlemagne will have numbers on his side, yes? T’is it not obvious that staying here is a very good way to be trapped?” She questioned, crossing her arms over her chest.

“It sounds like you have a suggestion,” I pointed out, leaning against the wall. Morrigan had a point. The plan was that we would take the city before King Charlemagne managed to march on us, and we did. Now, however, it meant that we were in the city and he would be outside it, making his cavalry useless. That's what we wanted. I had yet to see it in action, but Father had warned me of the dangers of cavalry, and it was a warning that I would heed.

Still, it would mean that we would be put under siege. I knew little of them, but Thorkell made them sound unpleasant.

“Let this be the tomb of Widukind, and his alone,” Morrigan uttered, approaching me. I saw that she helped herself to the jewelry that had been found because her arms were clad in trinkets. As she approached, her voice softened into little more than a whisper, as if wary that she would be overheard. “Convince him that you wish to act as a raiding party. Whatever he might believe. When the Frank King appears with his army, we won’t be the ones trapped within, forced to starve and wait. A siege could last years.”

Betrayal. She spoke of betrayal. Morrigan pressed a hand against the side of my face, her golden eyes gazing heavily into mine. “We already have what we came for -- wealth and splendor. We needn’t bind our fates to the Saxon King. Let us take our spoils and depart, continue down to Miklagard with what warriors will join us.” Before, she spoke of considering our options. Now, her talks of betrayal were more blatant.

My eyes narrowed, “What brings this?” I asked her because if I didn’t know any better, I would say that Morrigan sounded scared.

To that, her lips thinned. “The Saxon King is a fool. This is a fight he cannot win,” she informed, withdrawing her hand before she grabbed the scroll that she had been looking at. She pressed it into my hands and I unfurled it, looking at… something.

“T’is a map,” Morrigan informed, pressing a finger on the parchment that was marked. Frankfurt. “It marks the territory of the Frankish kingdom,” she continued, her finger moving and…

My heart clenched as I realized that the odd shapes were supposed to represent countries. I didn’t see Denmark on the map, but I did see the blob that was meant to represent Saxony. A small muddy brown color that had the Rhine river running through it. On its border was Frankland…

Frankland was more than a dozen times larger than Saxony.

“T’is a fool’s endeavor,” Morrigan summarized her thoughts, “What battles we might have won are paltry against the true might of the Frankish Kingdom. I suspect the only reason why we have not been crushed is simply the long journey his troops must make to reach us. If this foolish plan to hide behind these walls is the only one that we have? Then defeat is certain.”

With that, leaving me staring at the map, Morrigan left me alone in the room. Leaving me with nothing but my thoughts. A heavy weight settled on my shoulders as I tightly gripped the map, Thorkell’s words echoing in my head.

Being a leader truly was a difficult thing.

What did I honor?

My word, or the lives of my men?