Legends Never Die: Honor Bound (ch. 19) (Patreon)

It was surprisingly hard to find an army, I discovered as we sailed up the Rhine River. One would think that it would be difficult to misplace so many men, but when we sailed down the Elba river, asking villages where King Widukind was, there was a stunning lack of recent information, though plenty of misinformation. I heard a dozen different answers about where King Widukind was going when I asked a dozen different villages.

Instead of trying to discern which answers were truthful from those that were not, I decided that it would be faster to sail back from the Elba to spend a day searching for the entrance to the Rhine River, then sailing down it until I found Sigiburg. It was still being manned by the Norse warriors that were left behind about a month earlier. However, they had much more recent news -- The Saxon army was located at Frankfort, besieging it for the past few weeks while King Charlemagne regrouped his army after the defeats it had suffered.

They couldn't give us anything but a location, but that's what we needed. We continued to sail up the river that snaked through Frankish land. With the winds at our back and a powerful current urging us forward, we made much better time than we would have on foot. Still, I learned that I had underestimated the Rhine with its bends and curves. I had expected us to make better time sailing it, even if it was still faster than walking on foot. I had expected the journey to last maybe a handful of hours, half a day at most. But it was two days and a night of travel before we reached our destination.

The Rhine was also fairly populated, with many villages and towns using it as their life’s blood. Naturally, we stopped on the occasion. The men were eager to raid, but I chose to trade. Half of the crew, the new half, were near mutinous at the decision. However, when I asked them what we would do when we had to sail back up the river, and by those same towns, they quieted down. It’s not like we could fight every single one of them after all. But though the question quelled their tempers for the moment, they weren’t happy.

Even if we were making money with each trade, and I was making exp.

We sailed past Cologne, which rang the warning bell upon seeing our ships. Guards rushed to guard the port but did nothing beyond shoot a few arrows at us as we sailed by. They stopped when I shot a few back.

Just past Cologne, I saw another settlement that we had missed on our route to Cologne. However, it looked like it had been raided rather recently based on the smoke that drifted up to the sky from a number of burnt-out houses. There were still people, but they quickly fled into the forest when we passed by. The large village itself was a sign that we were near the Saxon army.

A little later, Frankfort was once again in view. Cologne was a greater city, but the fort turned city was formidable in its own way. What had changed most of all were the tents that surrounded the city. Instead of the Franks, it was the Saxons. While I didn't know how many each tent held, I noticed that there were noticeably fewer than what the Franks had.

Bringing the ships to shore, I left a good dozen men guarding them and the goods inside while I disembarked. The entrance to the camp was far less guarded, though I did notice scouts parked along the Rhine to keep an eye out for a Frankish army. The guards only stopped me to ask what my business here was, and when I mentioned that I had mead, they welcomed me and sent me off to King Widukind, who was inside the camp.

"I hate sieges," Thorkell reminded me, looking around the camps, his nose curling at the tents and conditions as a Saxon warrior relieved himself in the space between two tents.

I nodded, "I remember. I don't intend for us to stay at Frankfort for long," I said, and I earned an odd look from some of the men. I could only imagine how arrogant the words sounded, but they said nothing when Thorkell appeared relieved. I remembered what Jarl Horrik and Father had said about the Franks -- our greatest strength was our speed. The Franks proved that they could field a much larger army than us. Without the Norse armies, Saxony had little hope in overwhelming them in a decisive battle.

In function, the original plan remained the same -- to prove to be such a pain that the Franks decided that it wasn’t worth conquering Saxony. More so when they had a northern ally.

The Kings tent was an easy one to make out when I had seen it before. There were a few guards posted outside, who glared in my direction. I came to a stop in front of them, “I’m Siegfried the Wolf-Kissed. I’m here with fifty men to fight for King Widukind. For a price,” I added, and one of the men looked thoroughly amused.

“What kind of fools do you take us for? The Wolf-Kissed already fights with us, and he sure isn't a little boy,” the Saxon said with a laugh before he looked to Thorkell. “Your son tells a tall tale!” He said, clearly thinking that it was a joke.

I heard Morrigan laugh lightly behind me, “Mimicry is a sign of flattery, or so I hear. T’is a sign of your fame that you already have imposters.” To that, I tilted my head ever so slightly. I had thought much the same… but…

I hadn’t known that Morrigan spoke Germanic.

“Let me see King Widukind. He will know me,” I said, hoping that was true. I acted as a translator for him during the initial days of the campaign. The man that thought it was a joke lost his smile, the joke having lost its humor. I met his gaze evenly before I leaned my head back to reveal the scar on my neck. “I am Siegfried the Wolf-Kissed,” I told him again, and this time he believed me.

I watched him swallow thickly before he hastily nodded, “Of course,” he said, dipping into the tent to speak to King Widukind. Sharing a smile with Thorkell, I looked back just in time to see the tent open to reveal the King. The first thing that I noticed was that he looked tired. It was as if he aged a good ten years in the past month. He still looked well kept, but his beard hadn’t seen its usual trim and he was missing his crown.

It seemed that the loss of the Norse armies was missed dearly.

His dark green eyes met mine, flickered to Thorkell for a moment, then to the group behind me, with his gaze lingering on Morrigan and Jill. He seemed to come to a split decision because he nodded, “Well met, Wolf-Kissed,” he said, reaching out with a hand and I clasped arms with the King. “Your presence here is a surprise. I thought you would be fighting with Jarl Horrik. In the north,” he tacked on, his lips thinning. He was unhappy, that much was clear. It would seem that I wasn’t the only one that felt betrayed by Jarl Horrik.

“Not likely. We had a… difference in opinion,” I told him, making King Widukind narrow his eyes. “For now, I am here with fifty men, and we are looking to fight as mercenaries and trade,” I told him, and I could see him think on the information for the briefest of seconds before he offered a curt nod. I’m sure he had his questions, but he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Then I welcome you to our camp. Whatever wares you have will be bought for a fine price. I’ll see to it,” he said, gesturing for me to follow him into the tent. He dropped the flap when I entered, preventing Thorkell from entering. I looked around the tent to see that it had a bed, a table in the center that had a few candles burning. King Widukind walked to the table, taking a seat across from me while I stood.

On the table was a model of the surrounding area with figurines on it. I saw the surrounding forest, the branch of the Rhine river, with Frankfort acting as a large centerpiece. However, off to the side in a corner of the model, there were three stones that marked what I’m guessing were the Franks.

“Your arrival must have been a sign from the gods,” King Widukind admitted, looking at me. “You strike me as someone that prefers the cold truth over flowery words, so I shall be blunt -- we need to take Frankfort as quickly as possible,” he told me, gesturing for me to take a seat. I did so, and fate did work in mysterious ways, I thought. This was a clear sign that I walked the right path.

From my view, I looked at the model of the terrain with a more tactical view to get an idea of why that was. I noticed that there were four stones outside of the walls of Frankfort. Inside the city were two stones. On the other side of the Rhine were three stones. I nodded to myself, quickly getting a handle on the situation -- it was easier when you had some experience with war. I wouldn’t call myself a general of any kind, but the situation was obvious enough.

“The armies that were defeated by Jarl Horrik and King Sigfred split off. One joined the garrison in Frankfort,” he said, gesturing to the two stones in the city. “The rest went to Aachen to regroup and to be reinforced. Now, they are on the other side of the Rhine, and they are looking to cross. By our counts, they have two thousand cavalry and a thousand infantry.”

“Which is why you want to be inside the city,” I ventured. Father had seemed to fear the Frank’s cavalry. I hadn’t seen it for myself, but there had to be a good reason for that. I could see how two thousand horses charging at you would be deadly. But I imagine it would be just as deadly for the riders on top of the horses.

King Widukind nodded, “Exactly. At Sigiburg, the men say that you took the fortress damn near alone. If you can do so again, then I will pay you whatever it is you want.” He told me, catching me by surprise at his blunt honesty.

He was desperate, I realized. The other half of the army that was supposed to be helping him was fighting themselves, leaving him alone to face the Franks. He was in a bad position because if the army across the Rhine went over it, then the Saxons would be forced to abandon the siege. If not because of the cavalry, then because the Franks within the city would surely sally out to attack them and they would be outnumbered.

And once they broke the siege, then the two armies would be sure to join up.

“The preparations for the assault have already been made. We were going to commence the attack tomorrow in the early morning,” he said, his tone grim. He knew it was going to be costly, but he didn’t see another choice. I don’t think there was one that wouldn't all but end his rebellion. If it took victories to convince people to rebel, then a defeat would be enough to convince them not to. “King Charlemagne is taking his time, gathering his forces. Sacking and taking Frankfort would force his hand.”

The same strategy. I looked at the model of the city, hoping it was a faithful copy. It was a unique way to plan, I decided, looking at the pebbles and twigs that marked the city. A good way, too. Knowing what your surroundings were could decide the battle. With Jarl Horrik and King Sigfred, we had been very lucky to fight on a hill or a dense forest. If we hadn’t been so favored by the gods, then we would have lost.

I pointed at a narrow wall, one that was made of stone. “I’ll attack that wall if you can get me up on it. I’ll try to block off access with the bodies of Franks, which should give you some time to get men on that section of the wall. From there, I’ll fight my way to the gates and work to open them.” I told him, thinking that it was a decent plan. The gates had won the battle with Sigiburg. However, Frankfort was much larger.

King Widukind nodded slowly, “I’ll position the men for a full assault. It’ll spread them out a great deal, which should make it easier for you to get to the gates.” That was a really good idea too.

“I want a full share of the plunder,” I told him, making the King’s lips thin. “And a generous wage for my company.” Which I knew to be either a number of goods or what amounted to be a hundred silver coins a month. Or a thousand coins at the end of the year.

I could see that he wasn’t too pleased with the deal. However, he was desperate.

“Very well then,” he said, spitting into his palm while I did the same.

I probably should have asked for more, I thought as we shook on it.

…

It was early morning when I found myself standing before the city of Frankfort, the army forming up to assault the walls. I was assigned a group that carried a ladder, which would let us scale the walls. Despite the early hour, I saw that the Franks were up. The walls were fully manned, dense with a number of people on them, all ready to fight.

However, only a handful of groups would actually charge the walls with me. The rest would only do so if the Franks pulled enough men off of them. The wall that I had chosen was narrower in length compared to the others, but it was still a long wall of over a hundred feet. It had two towers that jutted out at the corners, and on top of them, I saw a number of archers.

“Can you do it?” Thorkell asked me. I wore armor for the first time in a long time -- scale mail taken from those that had killed my family. A shield was on my back to protect me, much like the first one had. I had two axes in my belt, but I favored two seaxes considering how dense with soldiers the walls were.

I gazed at the city, taking in a slow breath. “Can’t say for certain until I make the attempt,” I told him, earning a small laugh from the taller man. “I don’t know what it looks like on the inside of the city. The plan won’t work unless I can block off however they get up,” I admitted.

There was a beat of silence as everyone continued to form up. I would be fighting again. Killing a great number of men for wealth and prestige. I didn’t have any personal issue with the city of Frankfort, or the people within it. But, that didn’t really matter. Frankfort was a stepping stone to my true goal.

Because I imagine if I help King Widukind establish and protect his kingdom, then I would find an ally in Saxony when I returned to this land.

“You never asked why I hated sieges so much,” Thorkell observed, standing next to me. He was similarly armored, ready to follow me into the city when I created a foothold.

I hadn’t.

“I figured you would tell me when you wanted to,” I responded, looking up at him. He continued to gaze at the city, and I wondered if he was about to do so. Thorkell pursed his lips in thought, a grimace passing over his face before he shook his head.

“It’s bad luck to speak of such things before a battle,” he decided. “I’ll tell you some other time.”

We wouldn’t have had time for the story anyway, because I heard the horn blast that told us that the time for battle had arrived. I shared a final look with Thorkell before we parted ways. I joined my group, a dozen men that held a ladder above their heads. I stood behind them, reaching up and grabbing hold of the ladder near the top spoke that would take me to the wall. I didn’t know the men that I would be charging with, but I noticed that they were all Norse.

There was a loud silence after the horn as it seemed every man around the city and within it were holding their breath in anticipation. All of us waiting for the second horn blast that would begin the battle. Between the men, I saw the lines of arrow paths from the archers in the towers and on the walls. Then the battle began with the loud bellowing of a horn. Instantly, the group of men I was with surged forward towards the wall.

The archers let loose their arrows and men began to fall almost as soon as the battle began. There were a dozen groups with mine to prevent my group from being shot to pieces. Even still, a man in front of me collapsed with an arrow to the throat. Arrows pelted down on us without respite, but in the hand not holding the ladder some of the warriors carried their shields for some protection.

We rapidly closed the distance between us and the walls before the ones at the front of the group planted their end down into the ground. The others heaved up, while I jumped with all of my strength. The combined might of the men let them lift me as I kept my grip on the ladder, being lifted into the air, before the ladder came to a tipping point where my weight at the top made it fall in the direction of the walls.

I met the gaze of a Frank on the wall, thrusting out with a spear to catch me in the gut, but when I stepped up on the ladder when it neared the walls, it missed. The ladder impacted on the wall and I dove into the solid mass of Frank warriors, my gaze filled with red spots that coaxed my seaxes to plunge into them. With one seaxe, I leaned into Unbreakable Guard to parry and block the thrusts and attacks from the men that surrounded me. With the other, I killed the first man of the day by slipping my seaxe into his heart, the blade thrusting into the gap in his armor at his armpit.

Yanking it out, the man’s body was pressed forward as I landed on the stone walls, the men behind him pressing forward. Between my armor and Unbreakable Guard, I had far fewer places that I needed to guard -- namely my neck, face, and armpits. My back was protected by the shield and because of the added protection, I was able to use my seaxes to greater effect.

Plunging my seaxes into the soft flesh of the men in front of me, I rapidly began cutting out a space for myself. The air shook with the force of the screams that filled the air, blood splashing out in rivers and fine mist, filling my nose with the smell of copper. The others mounting the walls took some of the pressure from me, and that was the Franks mistake.

I found a weakness. Not in the Franks themselves because I'm sure that I would think the same if the Norse manned the walls. It was a split of focus that provided the opportunity to advance. I slashed a man's throat before I began to move along the walls, taking the pressure off the other groups and letting more men get onto the walls.

My seaxes slipped into the gaps as I walked towards one tower that I had purposely targeted. I saw that there was a heavy oak door that was left open, men guarding the inside of it. I pushed a body towards the door, the first of many. Grabbing another man from behind and stabbing a seaxe into someone's ear I tossed him on top of the body. Those inside seemed to realize what I intended because they rushed me and in doing so, they offered themselves to be added into the pile.

It was a frenzy of violence. I killed the Franks all around me, stacking them high in front of the door. The area began to thin out as a few other Norse warriors followed suit, understanding my intentions without words. The Franks on the other side of the door were fighting to get out, but time worked against them. And, with one door sealed, I turned around and began to work my way along the length of the wall.

Blood flooded onto the cobblestone walls, splashing up with every step that I took. My seaxes flickered out, killing men with frightening ease. They fell to my feet, the men that replaced them died just as quickly. The battle almost had a sense of rhythm as I felt Franks try to push us back. But, as more Norse warriors made their way onto the walls, I felt myself being pushed forward as much as I was being pushed back.

The men were on the walls in force now, but one section of the walls wasn't enough. Gritting my teeth, I pressed forward, leading the charge to clear the walls and reaching the other tower. I never kept count of how many men I had killed. There wasn't a point. But, as I left a trail of bodies in my wake, I decided that I didn't want to know. I was absolutely drenched in blood, it flowed over my armor, staining the shining iron scales red.

With Vital Strike, I was barely winded by the time I reached the tower. The back of the wall was sealed off, so the towers had to be the only way to get up or down. The Franks knew that, so they were quick to act as a chokepoint. I looked up at the top of the tower to see that it was only six or seven feet overhead. When we reached the barred door that the Norsemen were hacking at with their axes, every Frank on the walls dead, I grabbed hold of one and pointed up. “Toss me up!” I shouted, a split second before I pulled him to the side, making an arrow narrowly avoid his throat. It slammed into a shield behind him.

The older man looked at me with wide eyes for a moment before he nodded, “I’ll get you up there,” he told me, pushing through the Norse warrior to the door. He enlisted another warrior to help, by cupping their hands together. Stepping up, they counted down and with a heave, they tossed me up.

I found a handhold in the gaps of the stone that let the archer shoot down at us with impunity. A young man stood at the ledge, his eyes widening for a moment before I plunged my seaxe into his throat. Pulling him over the ledge, I pulled myself up to see that the tower was a small square with barrels full of arrows to be shared between a good half dozen archers.

They fired down on the warriors that were making their way onto the cleared wall, the thunderous shouts and screams below hiding my arrival. Striding up to the closest one, I drove my seaxe into his eye, dragging him down before he could fire another arrow. The others began to take notice of me then.

They went for their weapons, stumbling back with expressions of grim determination on their faces. These men weren’t the cowards at Cologne that gave up without a fight. These men were ready to fight and die before they gave up so much an inch.

I respected them more for it, but I still threw myself at them. I drove a seaxe into the forearm of one man when he lunged at me with a knife of his own before stabbing him in the heart and tossing him into the way of another. They didn’t wear armor. They probably didn’t see a need. However, that decision had killed them as I power attacked with a kick, shattering an archer’s leg. As he fell, I slashed his throat open, killing another. The remaining few bore down on me, hoping to overwhelm me with numbers…

Their skill with a bow didn’t transfer to their skill with a knife, I found. They were brave, but they died all the same. I gave their bodies a look, their blood dripping out of them and onto the stone. Sparing a glance at my seaxes, I saw that the edges were already mostly gone. Tucking them into my belt, I went to a bow and to the ledge of the tower that overlooked the city.

The Franks were pushing to retake the lost portion of the walls by going up both towers, trying to flank us in. However, they didn’t seem to know that one tower was completely blocked off with a pile of bodies -- some Norsemen tossing more onto the pile to thoroughly cut off that entrance. I doubt it would work forever, but it was enough that the section of wall was completely filled with Saxons and Norsemen.

Below me, I heard fighting. The door had been hacked through and now they were fighting for control of the tower while Franks poured in from the other section of the wall and the ground floor. I couldn’t tell who was winning, but us securing parts of the walls was a huge issue for the Franks.

Beyond that, I saw that the city was large. The houses were packed together, and I saw the roof of another church. From where I stood, I could see the edges of the front gates and the wooden palisade that flanked them -- there was still a large number of men guarding those areas. Taking an arrow from a barrel, I nocked it in the bowstring and took aim, the blue dot marking my arrow’s path, its destination the throat of a random Frank soldier, and I let it loose.

The arrows would thin out their numbers ever so slightly. It wouldn’t make much of an impact overall, but I had a plan. It was a simple one, really. We didn’t have to fight all of the Franks. Our goal was to open the gates, letting the rest of our army in. If we filled the stairs with bodies, then the Franks couldn’t get up. Simple.

To that end, I fired arrow after arrow. It didn’t take long for them to realize that I wasn’t one of their archers, with some throwing things at me. They never came close, though them holding up their shields was an issue. Still, I fired at the gaps between the shields, in the spaces where their armor didn’t cover. My fingertips bled from the constant use of the bow as I rapidly emptied a barrel. Keeping count of the arrows I released didn’t occur to me, but it must have been a hundred. At least.

I only paused when my bowstring snapped, forcing me to grab another bow. The arrows that were meant to last an entire siege were quickly depleted. The lack of numbers pouring in from the walls let the Norsemen and Saxons push through, going to secure more of the walls as another group of warriors climbed up with ladders. “Toss the dead on the stairs,” I shouted, watching as more Franks were being sent to plug up the gaps on the walls and to push off the invaders.

Heading down, I saw that the order was heard. The men were tossing corpses on the stairs, clogging it up to slow the Franks trying to get up. They hurled insults and curses, their spears flicking out in the gaps, but soon they only struck their dead kinsmen. With that secured, I set out to take another portion of the wall. There were many dead with arrows sticking out of them, and more that fell to axes and seaxes. Our warriors already reached the other tower that flanked the gates.

This time, when I climbed up the tower, I focused on thinning out those that were meant to guard the gate, ready to block off whatever invading army that got through them. By the time the first man dropped dead with an arrow in his eye, it was enough to coax them into action. They screamed as they pressed forward, intent on retaking the walls while only a small portion continued to guard the gate. I shot at them, filling them with arrows until the gate was left completely abandoned.

Tossing my bow to the side, I stepped onto the ledge and eyed the drop and the closest house to me. I didn’t think that the clay plated roof would hold me, but even still, I jumped from the tower towards the house. I felt the clay plates snap underfoot a split second before the roof gave way, and I fell through the building. Luck would have it that I landed on my ass on a bunch of hay, cushioning my fall.

In a moment, I was on my feet and it was only then that I noticed those in the room with me. A family, all huddled up in a corner as they looked at me with wide eyes. A man, a woman, and three sons. My lips thinned before I chose to ignore them, heading for the front door. That’s when the man found his voice, “They’re inside the city! The barbarians are inside the city!” He began to scream as I slammed through the front door, seeing that the gate was still undefended.

I sprinted towards it, running through the mud streets. A Frank warrior appeared between the buildings, possibly drawn in by the man screaming behind me. I slammed into him, grabbing a seaxe and driving it into his eye so deeply that I was forced to abandon it. Some of the Franks saw me running towards the gate and they quickly pivoted on their heels to turn around and stop me from doing what I was about to.

Jumping over the bodies I made, I yanked away the wood that was meant to reinforce the large wooden gate. Then grabbing the bar, I heaved it up with all of my strength and was just barely able to slide it up and toss it behind me. Otherwise, I would have been crushed underneath it. As the Franks charged me, I grabbed hold of the iron ring attached to the door and pulled, the large door swinging open and letting a flood of Saxons into the city.

They slew the Franks that tried to stop me, washing over them before clashing against those that realized that the gates were open.

Taking in a deep breath, my hands went to my axes before I shrugged off the splintered remnants of the shield. Then with a roar of my own, I joined them in the fight.

Just because we were in the city didn’t mean that we had won. There was always the possibility that the Franks could push us out, but as the day dragged on, it became increasingly unlikely. We worked through the city, sometimes fighting them on the walls, in the towers, in the streets and even inside the homes. The citizens took up arms, barring their doors with whatever they could and wielding sickles and hammers. Some ventured out to fight with the soldiers, intent on defending their homes.

However, it was all for naught.

The hours went by in a blur of violence and death, the tipping point that decided the battle long behind us, and soon we were just killing those that refused to give in. I had no way of telling how many had died. Or how many I had killed. I just knew that the sky was darkening when I found myself outside a church that housed the last of the resistance in the city, my arms and back burning with exertion.

I knocked at the door with the back of my blood-drenched axe, “Open the door.” I spoke, finding myself tired after a long day of killing. I had always been in the thick of it, intent on displaying my prowess for all to see. And many witnessed how deadly I was.

“We will not!” I heard, finding myself in a familiar situation. “We-” The man on the other side started, but then I realized why the scene was so familiar.

“Otto?” I questioned, finding myself stunned. There was a beat of silence on the other side of the door.

Then, after a moment, Otto spoke up. “Siegfried? Is that you?” He asked me in Latin, trying to make sure. It was surprisingly cautious of him.

“It is me, Otto,” I returned in Latin. It wasn’t my best language by any stretch of the imagination, but it was serviceable. “Open the doors, and all those inside will be spared. We just want the treasure within,” I continued and I could hear a scurry within as there was a drawn-out pause. They were deciding what to do.

What were the odds that Otto would be here? It had to be fate. Perhaps the gods wanted me to finish learning Latin?

“Do we have your word that no one will be harmed?” Otto said, sounding far closer to the door. I nodded, looking at the large doors to the church. It wasn’t as grand as the one in Cologne, but so far, every church I had seen was an impressive building. I wouldn’t say that I cared for the Christian god one way or the other, but I could admit that he had impressive temples.

I nodded, though he could not see it. “I find myself blood sick,” I admitted to him, knowing that I was drenched in the blood of countless men. “You have my word that none will be harmed. If anyone tries, they’ll have to get through me,” I swore, speaking in Germanic so the Saxons that stood behind me could hear. I repeated the warning in Norse, so they would understand as well.

There was another pregnant pause. It was broken by the sound of the hinges creaking when the doors were pulled in, revealing Otto to me. He had a feeble smile on his face that weakened when he saw me. “We should really stop meeting like this, Siegfried,” he remarked, licking his lips when he saw the army behind me.

“I didn’t expect to see you again,” I admitted as more people began to leave the church. “Sit down outside, and none shall touch you. I swear it,” I told them all, gesturing where they should sit. I saw everyone that left the church were well dressed. Nobility?

Then I caught the gaze of another familiar face. “Ageric,” I greeted him as he was being carried by two servants. He glowered at me as he was brought by.

“Duke Ageric, you heathen dog,” he spat at me. Otto winced as he was quick to follow, taking a seat next to the young duke. I ignored them both in favor of grabbing the other large door and giving it a push.

With a sweeping gesture, I urged the Norse and Saxon army inside the church and they fell upon it with glee.

Frankfort was ours.