Legends Never Die: The Gods Laugh At The Plans Of Men (ch. 21) (Patreon)

I found King Widukind in a tavern. It was one of decent make, more stone than wood, though the floors were made from thick wooden planks. Furniture was of decent make, but it was currently stacked up along the walls to make room for the comings and goings of messengers. At the heart of the tavern were a long couple of tables that were pushed together to hold the model that was being meticulously assembled. One of Frankfurt was being combined with one of the surrounding area. King Widukind himself was piecing it together with twigs and stacking stones.

“How many steps from the pen to the wall?” He asked, not noticing my arrival as he poured over the model. It was a very interesting method of preparation. Time-consuming, however. Five men stood before the table as he was measuring everything out.

“Thirteen,” one man spoke up, making King Widukind pause. There was a small beat of silence and the man started to look nervous.

“Thirteen?” King Widukind echoed, a sharp and deadly edge in his voice. “Thirteen? How could it be thirteen steps when the road between the wall and this house is twenty-three? Did the road get narrower? Is the pen out of place? Or did you miscount?” He questioned, looking at the man that uttered the answer with a gaze sharp enough to cut.

He swallowed thickly. “I… I shall recount, my king.” He voiced, offering a stiff bow as if to ask for forgiveness.

“Do so,” King Widukind returned, his voice curt. It was when he sent the scout away, as he brushed past me with pale bloodless skin, only then did King Widukind notice my arrival. He jerked up, standing tall as he turned to face me. “Siegfried. I did not hear you enter. Welcome -- wine? The Franks had a fine selection. They’re godless, but they do know how to make a drink.”

“No thank you,” I responded instinctually, quickly enough that it earned his attention while an attendant brought a jug of wine forward. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the scouts, all of which looked upon me with wide eyes as they left.

He didn’t seem surprised with my refusal, “I suppose I shouldn’t expect you to so readily take a drink after so recently surviving a poisoning.” He remarked, making my eyes narrow when he poured himself a glass. He offered me a sly smirk, “Your men talk about many things when they’re drunk and in high spirits. One of the things that they mentioned is your family being branded outlaws and the attempt on your life. Something you failed to mention when you arrived.”

My lips thinned. It wasn’t a secret. Not exactly. But, I didn’t like the fact that he knew before I told him. Even if I wasn’t sure if I was ever going to tell him. “Does it matter? I took the city for you, did I not?” I questioned, watching King Widukind carefully. It felt like I just entered a game of wits that I was unprepared for. King Widukind had been watching me, I suspected. Pumping my men for information.

King Widukind inclined his head to me. “That, you did,” he admitted. “And no, it does not. I always believed Jarl Horrik to be a curr. I advised King Sigfred to avoid inviting a snake to sup with us, but he believed it to be an opportunity to finally rid himself of an old longstanding enemy. Perhaps he might have succeeded, but the gods have clearly made their favor known.”

It never occurred to me, but could King Widukind hold a grudge against me? I knew little of the relationship that King Widukind and Sigfred had. Only that King Widukind had fled from Saxony to Denmark when King Charlegmane first invaded. Harbored him. Did the relationship extend beyond politics? Were the friends? Had I, in my ignorance, alienated King Widukind by helping Horrik supplant his friend?

“The gods work in mysterious ways. No one can truly know if one has their favor,” I responded, looking away from the king and to the model that was being built. That was something that still nipped at me in the back of my mind. I had clearly fallen for a cruel jest from Loki in believing that King Sigfred had been responsible for the deaths of my brothers. However, if I truly had the blessing of the gods, then surely my brothers and father would still live?

Had it really been their fate to die like that? To daggers in the dark at the hands of cowards?

“I suppose you would know, Siegfried,” King Widukind remarked, looking at me over the rim of his wine glass. He was measuring me with his eyes and I saw them flicker down to the axe and sword I kept at my belt. He looked at me how Horrik and King Sigfred used to look at me -- as if they were deciding how to use me. What they could get from me. “I didn’t really believe it. Men like to tell tall tales. I didn’t doubt the deeds themselves, but taking a fortress single handily? A city? Tall tales indeed.”

He was leading up to a point, and I was content to let him take his time. Something I’ve found in recent times was that people wanted to use me. As much as some looked upon me with awe or fear, there were people like King Widukind that saw what I could do and plotted to use me for all I was worth. He wanted me to win his war for him, I suspected. And the map in my waistband felt heavy because I didn’t know if that was even possible.

“But the stories had more truth in them than I suspected. You took the walls of Frankfort. Something that I suspected would take hundreds of lives to accomplish," he continued, his tone decidedly even as he set his goblet of wine down on the table, next to the model. "I suspect that you know your own value, Siegfried. That you shall be… instrumental in winning the freedom of the Saxons."

"I hardly think I'm a replacement for thousands of men," I returned. Especially if everything that we had faced so far was merely the start. I couldn't get it out of my head -- how vast that map had been. How large the Frank kingdom was. How many men could King Charlegmane muster? Had everyone we killed so far… Did it even matter?

"I wouldn't be so sure," King Widukind continued to flatter me. "War… I traveled far in my search for wisdom when I was a much younger man. Wisdom on how I could defeat the Franks. There was a quote that I heard once. I know not who uttered it, but I've found that they knew the truth of war better than any other. 'Out of every hundred men, ten shouldn't even be here, eighty are targets, nine are the real fighters. Ah, but the one, one is a warrior, who shall see the others back safely.'" As King Widukind uttered the quote, he sat down and I saw a glimpse of exhaustion as he looked upon the model.

I frowned at the saying, finding that it didn't sit well with me. I could clearly see what he was trying to say -- I was the warrior. Or one of the nine. But the quote and sayer was wrong. Perhaps that was true in lesser cultures, but Norsemen were brave. We didn't cower in the face of the enemy. And I couldn't help but be struck by familiarity -- it sounded similar to what King Charlegmane said about his own army.

However, before I could say anything, he continued. "You are a corpse maker. One unlike I have ever seen, Siegfried. Woden favors you and you do his bidding well. In the face of you, the ten shall flee. Their cowardice will make the other eighty route. The ten that fight… they shall be overwhelmed. The battle shall be won."

"Winning a battle is different from winning a war," I decided, reaching back to the map. I saw that King Widukind knew exactly what I was going to show him before I passed it to him. All the same, he accepted the map and unfurled it, looking at the map. The rivers were marked upon it, as were many cities. Paris, Rouen, Brussels, and so many more. "People believe that the war is all but won. We have had three victories and slain many men. That couldn't be further from the truth, could it?"

King Widukind ran his fingers over the roads and rivers. "I imagine that it does look daunting seeing it like this," he admitted. "Saxony is clearly larger than what is portrayed, but I confess to knowing that the Franks were a kingdom many times larger than us."

"And you chose to hide it," I stated, an edge in my tone. I expected a sharp rebuke, but King Widukind nodded, still overlooking the map. His lips tugged down into a frown while a hand drifted up to strike his beard in thought.

"Of course, I did. If a look at this is enough to make a corpse maker like you tremble, then what of the lesser men?" He questioned and I narrowed my eyes at the insult. I wasn't trembling. I wasn't a coward. I had concerns. Reasonable ones. "I hid the knowledge from but a select few. It'd cause unnecessary strife within our army… and the very thing that shall cause that strife is what will cause the downfall of the Franks, Siegfried." King Widukind looked at me after a long moment, his gaze intense. There was a burning fire in his eyes that told me that he believed them.

I felt a flash of shame run through me. I thought he didn't have a plan. I should have learned if he did or not before jumping to conclusions. "What do you mean by that?" I asked, glancing at the map and seeing a nation that utterly dwarfed Saxony. The only weakness I could think of was that it would take a great deal of time to muster up an army in the far west and march them over to Saxony. However, that time was measured in weeks. Less by ship.

"King Charlemagne is an old enemy of mine. I've hated him long before he ever knew who I was. However, I am hardly the only enemy he has," King Widukind spoke, leaning forward as he pushed the map to me. "Tell me, Siegfried. What do you know of our enemy?" He asked me and my lips thinned.

"Not a lot," I admitted. I knew that he detested us for being heathens. And I agreed with the sayings that he would kill us all if he could. King Charlemagne struck me as a man who believed in what he was doing. As surely as I believed in what I did. But, beyond that, I didn't really know much.

King Widukind did. "When I was young, the Frankish kingdom wasn't what it is today. It was still a mighty kingdom, to be sure, but it wasn't what King Charlemagne would turn it into. You see, the prior king, his father, knew that his sons could not coexist within the same kingdom. One would not submit to the other for they were both too ambitious by nature. For that reason, upon his death, King Pepin divided his kingdom between his sons." I didn't know that king Charlemagne had a brother. "However, this made the rivalry between them turn bitter. Both felt cheated out of their inheritance. For that reason, they began to scheme on how to reunify Francia."

"Kinslaying," I muttered the word bitterly, knowing where he was going with this. I couldn't imagine it. I couldn't. It was vile in an instinctual way. There were times I disliked my brothers. There were times when I outright hated them. However, I'd sooner part with a hand than raise it against them with the intention to kill. To murder. There was no one more forsaken than those that killed their own kin out of ambition.

King Widukind nodded, "Aye. King Charlemagne murdered his own brother for the crown, but before that, there were years of foul actions and blood debts made. Both brothers discredited the other at every turn or weakening their support base. Meaning, that when King Charlemagne inherited King Carloman's kingdom, he inherited the same men that he had insulted and disgraced to weaken his brother." And with that, the plan became much clearer.

We had allies within the kingdom. Perhaps ones that weren't outright friends, but they possessed a common enemy. "You intend to weaken King Charlemagne enough that his enemy's take action against him," I voiced, earning a slow nod from the Saxon King.

"King Charlemagne possessed too many Jarls underneath him. Many are dissatisfied, but they are afraid to take action. By now, word of King Charlemagne's string of defeats would have spread throughout his kingdom. The loss of four or five thousand men would be disastrous for anyone else, but as you have shown… Francia has the men to spare. But taking Cologne? That will cause some ripples. People will always remember the defeats more than the victories. Especially when they come so rarely and against heathen barbarians such as ourselves."

I nodded slowly, seeing it in my mind. The only thing that I could compare it to was the gossip I heard back in Alabu back when Horrik hadn't announced that we would be joining this campaign. Something I never thought much of until now. If Horrik had decided not to go, what would have happened? Would people have called him a coward? Would they have gone on their own? The support that Horrik had would have fractured, however slightly. Meaning that if the support was hammered enough, then it could break like King Widukind said.

"Do we have stated support from anyone within the kingdom?" I questioned, making King Widukind shake his head. "Do we know of anyone that would act?"

He smiled slightly in response, "Several. I know not of their lands, but I do know their names. Hunoald Louping, Loup Louping, Theoderic Nevers, Theobert Nibelunging, Wido Leudoni. They are powerful jarls within Francia. But, I suspect that they shall act cautiously."

I thought about it. I knew who I could ask to gain such information, though I doubt that Ageric would be feeling… positively disposed to me at the moment. Between Morrigan and I tending to him, we should be able to save his leg but it couldn't be denied that he was paying a hefty price for it. Beyond that, it was a risk, I could see. If we deliberately allowed some of Francia to gather its strength, there was no guarantee that it would be used against King Charlemagne and not us. We could be giving the enemy the time they needed to gather themselves.

"Siegfried," King Widukind started, bringing my attention back to him. "I will be sending a number of raiding parties out into Francia to raid. Both in hopes of disrupting the Franks supplies, and to foster discord among them. To embolden those that would take action against their king. I want you to lead the largest of them. Two hundred men. Go wherever you feel you can do the most damage." He instructed, and two hundred men was a large jump from the current number of forty.

What could I do with two hundred men?

Thorkell said that there had been a hundred losses taking Cologne. It was a city that was defended. Could we take a city with fewer deaths? That would certainly blacken the eye of the Frankish king. More than that, it was an opportunity to obtain more wealth.

"What will you do in the meantime?" I questioned, not committing to the idea yet. I couldn't let my greed guide me here. I had to think like a leader. What would be best for my men? What would be best for my quest of vengeance?

"We shall hold here. King Charlemagne will not attack so recklessly. He will understand the dangers to his own rule far better than us. He will be cautious and build up his strength. Cologne will be put under siege, but that matters little. I have men in Saxony that are gathering forces. Between the raiding parties and another army, King Charlemagne will find himself surrounded and he knows it but he must be seen taking action. As such, his army shall be stuck here instead of patrolling the countryside where it will be needed." King Widukind stated, and I saw that was his intention all along.

Morrigan hadn't been wrong. Not exactly. But her concerns seemed to be accounted for and the siege itself was a way to advance King Widukind's plans. I thought it over in my head for a long moment, considering our course. In truth, I had no true stake in this war. The only concern I had was if King Charlemagne would continue upward and conquer Denmark, robbing me of my vengeance. With what I had, it did make sense to continue onward to Miklagard.

However, it also felt… wrong. As if I were abandoning King Widukind when he needed me. When he was relying on me. I didn't owe him anything. Not really. Not enough to commit myself to his cause. But I gave him my word to act as a mercenary and he gave me a reason to believe that he did know what he was doing. The only true difficulties he faced were due to his allies abandoning him because of internal struggles.

"I'll lead the raiding parties on the condition that all the valuables we take belong to us," I decided, seeing a slow smile spread across the face of King Widukind. There was relief in his expression as he held out a hand to clasp forearms.

"I expected nothing less," King Widukind returned, telling me that I could have haggled for a better price. I'm not entirely certain for what, though. I had no interest in joining his court nor in land. The only thing I could think of was getting a promise of aid against Horrik, but given that the future of Saxony itself was in doubt, it felt like a hollow promise to receive. "Siegfried, I suspect you have a grand destiny before you, but the gods have seen fit to bind our fates for now. So, allow me to give you some wisdom -- sometimes the only way to defeat an enemy is to make them defeat themselves. Learning where they are strong is just as important as learning where they are weak."

He reached out and gave my shoulder a squeeze and I offered a small nod, feeling… humbled. Thorkell had admonished me for how I acted as a leader. Now King Widukind showed me that there was a great deal more to war than winning battles. It showed me how little I really knew about war and how much I still had to learn.

"I'll take the lesson to heart, King Widukind."

…

It took a week for the raiding parties to be formed. Which was a week that I spent questioning Ageric about the dukes that King Widukind had mentioned. In doing so, I learned that a number of them resided on the coastline in what had been King Carloman's kingdom. Meaning that raiding by ship would be unwise because I would be harming potential… allies.

The raiding parties varied in size a great deal. Some were as few as ten, while I was the largest of two hundred. Thirty of which were my mercenary company. As the week passed, some things became very apparent.

"You were right," I remarked at Thorkell, overlooking the two hundred men that I would be in command of. "All of them are Norse."

"Raiding is dangerous work," Thorkell acknowledged. "There are going to be patrols, or forces coming up the roads. As much damage as we're going to do to the Franks, the raiders are going to be spilling blood as well. Better than the blood is mercenaries over Saxons," Thorkell remarked, leaning on the rampart as we stood in a watch tower, with his arms crossed.

All of the raiders were Norse. There were an odd two hundred that would remain behind within Frankfurt, but out of the near nine hundred Norse mercenaries that King Widukind had, he was sending out about seven hundred of us throughout Francia. All were completely independent with no organization to speak of. I imagine that a number of them would be raiding for some wealth before leaving the war entirely. While others would end up forming larger groups.

It was difficult to see anything other than bleeding us while the Saxons stayed behind the wall. Safe.

"Do you think I made the wrong choice?" I asked Thorkell, looking up at the man to find him shrugging.

"Can only know that after everything is all said and done. Letting mercenaries take the risks is normal enough. This is blatant enough to leave a bad taste in the mouth, but given that the Norse kingdoms abandoned him, I can't say I don't understand why he's not putting any trust into us," Thorkell admitted. "Still, the whole strategy makes sense as far as I reckon. No unity makes us difficult to pin down, and even as they get one group, there's another dozen running amok."

King Widukind hadn't lied to me. Not in a way that triggered Tell Spotter. But it also didn't feel like he told the whole truth.

Another lesson, I suppose. I needed to be aware that everyone I dealt with had an ulterior motive.

"In any case, it's a good opportunity. I would have done the same," Thorkell offered and I felt myself breathe a little easier at his approval. Thorkell knew what he was doing. More so than I, I suspected. It helped convince me that this was the correct course of action.

"Good," I decided, heading for the stairs down to the guardhouse below the top of the tower. Below, I saw a number of my men -- the ten that I would be leaving behind along with Jill and Morrigan. Morrigan was unhappy. She stayed unhappy since she learned that we wouldn’t immediately abandon King Widukind and she only got more unhappy the moment that she learned that she was staying behind.

“Leaving, were you?” Morrigan questioned, her arms crossed over her chest and her lips pressed into a line as she regarded me coldly. “T’is not too late to change your mind from this fool's endeavor. Let us be done with the Saxons and move on to Miklagard while we still can.” She voiced her opinion and I saw a few of the men glower at her for her sharp words. Thorkell looked like he was fighting off a smile. And losing. Badly.

I swallowed a sigh. It felt like we already had that argument. Several times. “King Widukind has a plan. A good one that makes winning this war possible.”

“For how long, I wonder? T’is very optimistic to simply assume that the whole nation will plunge into civil war until Ragnarok comes. Which is what the Saxons shall need if they hope to remain independent,” Morrigan pointed out, earning a dirty look from Jill out of the corner of her eye. Dealing with Morrigan could be exhausting at times, but it was a good thing she wasn’t willing to swallow her opinions simply because I said something.

To that, I shrugged, “It won’t be our problem.” I answered her, knowing it to be true. Maybe we could strike down King Charlemagne. Maybe we could bring Francia low. Or, in the more likely case, we gave the Franks bigger issues to deal with and the invasion of Saxony was pushed to the wayside. For how long? Could be as little as a year. Could be decades. It also didn’t really matter. I wasn’t a Saxon. After my contract was fulfilled, what happened next wasn’t on me unless King Widukind hired me again.

“How very mercenary of you,” Morrigan remarked, sounding like she did approve of that, at least. “Still, if you insist on going on this fool’s errand, then I should go with you. I have no interest in staying here and trading words with that doddering priest you’re so fond of.”

Jill spoke up as well, her hands bunched into her skirts, “I would like to go as well.” She stated, offering nothing else. She seemed very disappointed when I shook my head.

“Morrigan, I need you to preserve Algeric’s leg and he can’t come with us,” I reminded why she couldn’t come. Jill had less of a reason to stay, but she couldn’t come with us. The two hundred warriors that were coming were warriors. Jill wasn’t a fighter. We would need to be swift and deal devastating damage everywhere we went. To that end, we couldn’t have anyone that would slow us down. Jill, unfortunately, did. That was one reason.

Instead of voicing the other, I looked to the ten men. “Your job is to protect them,” I told them in no uncertain terms. They all gave me nods all around before I glanced at the doors to make sure that they were closed before continuing. “And you are to speak to the remaining Norse warriors within the city once we are gone.”

Morrigan perked up immediately, “Treachery, is it?”

I scowled at her, “No,” I bit the word out. “King Widukind has done nothing to earn my ire nor my treachery. I don’t believe he intends to betray us, but that doesn’t mean that he won’t. Nor does it mean that he is right about this plan,” I told her, and something in my tone made Morrigan look away. “Speak to the Norse warriors. Use the time that you have here to make allies. And plan how to leave should it come to it. Do you understand?”

“Aye, Wolf-Kissed,” one of my men said, clasping a hand on his armring. Eystein Ornolfsson, if I remembered the name. Learning them all would be difficult, but it was something that would be worth doing. “You have my word. No harm shall fall upon your women while we still draw breath.” To that, Jill flushed while Morrigan rolled her eyes to the ceiling. Thorkell sounded like he was choking on something. I’m pretty sure it was a laugh.

“I believe you,” I told him, making him stand a bit straighter. Tell Spotter wasn’t tripped. It may not mean he was uttering the truth, but I don’t think he was lying. “Jill, Morrigan…” I started, looking at the two. I didn’t want to leave them, in truth. I couldn’t protect them if I wasn’t here or they were with me. But it was foolish to bring them both into danger just so I could protect them from it. “I know that you do not care for each other.”

Almost as if on cue, both girls looked at one another and their faces pinched in unison. No. No, they did not care for one another. At all. Even still, I continued, “But I ask that you take care of one another. We do not have as many friends here as people will have us believe. Will you promise me that?” I asked, looking between them, uncertain of what the answer would be. As I expected, Morrigan scowled, rejecting the notion that she would need anyone to take care of her. And bulking at the idea of being responsible for anyone other than herself.

Jill took the request with far more grace. “As you say, Siegfried. I will look after Morrigan as if she were my own sister.”

“You look after me-” Morrigan started, sputtering at the mere idea of it before she bit the words back. Looking away as she scowled to herself, she flicked a golden eyed stare at me for a moment before she offered a curt nod. “Fine. I shall ensure that your tag-along shan’t suffer a well-deserved fate.” That was about as much as I could expect from her and, honestly, it was more than I expected in the first place.

Jill also seemed equally unsurprised by the remark and simply stepped forward, reaching out to take my hands in hers. “Be safe, Siegfried. We shall await your return,” Jill stated before leaning forward and pressing her lips to my cheek. My flesh felt hot as she pulled back, and I found that Jill was blushing at her own actions as I was. She gave my hands a small squeeze before stepping back, deliberately ignoring the look that Morrigan was giving her. And, in that moment, I’m pretty sure the greatest danger to Jill was Morrigan herself.

“I… shall,” I got my mouth to work after a moment, much to Thorkell’s amusement. I was starting to wish that he really would choke on those laughs he was failing to swallow down. Not really sure what else to say, I headed for the door, heading for the ramparts where I would greet the two hundred men that I would be fighting beside.

Between women and war… I suspected that the latter was easier to understand.