Legends Never Die: Kingmaker (ch. 33) (Patreon)

"He was a popular guy," Thorkell confirmed my worst suspicions as we rode toward our destination after crossing the Rhine and heading into the land of Holland. My mercenary company took point while two thousand Saxons trailed behind us. Crossing the river had been the worst part, mostly because there was no easy way to get back across if we were attacked, making us vulnerable. But we managed the crossing in about a half day.

Thorkell rode along side me, Halfdan on my left while Halstien rode behind both Jill and Morrigan. Jill held the reins to their shared horse because Morrigan didn't know how to ride, and it was obvious enough that she felt anything but at ease on top of the horse. I think it was the one time I saw her look genuinely frightened. Didn't last long, though. Mostly because she started glaring when I laughed.

"How popular is popular?" I asked, a sigh in my voice. Alef had been released after a whipping -- a mere ten lashes for an attempt of murder -- and he was telling everyone under the sun that I couldn't be trusted. That I was a vile murderer. He got more than a few smacks from it from the Saxons, but that didn't persuade him to stop. Most, nearly everyone, completely dismissed what he said out of hand. My own reputation as a warrior prevented people from believing it, and the fact that King Widukind gave the verdict that it wasn't murder didn't help his case.

Still, I noticed that I had gotten some odd looks from Saxons. It was enough to make me ask the question -- who was Stefan the Lucky?

"You won't be seeing any blood debts called over it. He didn't have any kin left -- that's how he got his nickname originally. Sickness killed his family, leaving only him to survive. Growing up, he acted as a runner and barker for merchants, and I suppose that taught him the trade because when he was barely a man, he went out with some goods. Then he became known as the Lucky, because fortune always seemed to smile on him. Whenever he would deliver food, he would arrive at a starving town that had suffered a bad harvest. Or he would bring hides when a cold snap brought winter early." Thorkell explained what he knew and I narrowed my eyes at the dirt road.

That sounded like a gift I had. I hadn't used it much, simply because I fell into the roll of a mercenary, but that sounded a great deal like Opportunity Spotter.

"Did he have something to do with those lucky occurrences?" I questioned, earning a shrug from Thorkell.

"If he did, he knew how to get away with it. His luck as a merchant was damn near reliable, though. Some based what they were buying off of what he was and where he was going. What made everyone like him, though, was the fact that he always gave a good deal. He pocketed profits, I'm sure, but everyone knew that he could have charged three times as much but he chose not to. Everyone remembers the man that doesn't charge a silver for bread when everyone else is. He saved a number of people from starving," Thorkell remarked, casting me a look.

And I had killed him.

"I tried to spare them," I muttered, finding my heart heavy. It was a sad thing that the norns chose then to end Stephan's life. Sadder still that I was the shears that cut the thread of his life. I didn't feel guilty for his death, but I did feel remorse. I wish it hadn't happened. I wished that he had listened to me. I wish that they hadn't attacked after I knocked down his hot headed son. His death was regrettable.

"I believe you, Wolf-Kissed. Most people do. As much as Alef is trying to drag your name through the mud, he's not claiming that you forced yourself on his sister or mother. And the fact that he got away… everyone knows what a warrior you are. They don't believe that he could've lived unless you let him," Thorkell offered. "But, well… a lot of people liked Stephan. Lot of people like you, though. It just leaves a bad taste in their mouths -- nothing that a victory can't wash out." I heard him and understood, nodding along but my attention drifted.

I hadn't known at the time, I reflected, my eyes drifting up to see our first true destination. A town that was located on the edge of the sea, the place where we would be meeting Ageres. My scouts were spread out ahead of us, determined to find out if it was a trap before we walked into it. I could only fall into so many before I could no longer blame my clever enemies and not accept some of the blame myself.

During that raid, I hadn't known that I was killing a good man. A generous one. I just thought it was a bit odd that his house had been on the edge of the city and noted the wealth that he possessed. I don't really remember what he looked like either. I'm guessing like Alef, but his actual face was lost to me. He wasn't the first man that I had killed, and since him, I had killed many more. Near a thousand at this point. Possibly even more.

I wonder… how many more good men had I killed in my ignorance?

Almost as if the norns could sense my thoughts, the path took us through a village. A burnt out one. It wasn't a particularly large village -- just some buildings that were built around a fork in the road. The damage didn't look that old as we passed through it, I noticed, but I also knew that there were plenty of mercenaries and bandits that roamed Francia. It might not have been us, but I would put odds on it.

My gaze drifted to a graveyard that was dug just outside the village. A good two dozen graves with rudimentary crosses marking them. My lips thinned and I forced myself to look away

"You are thinking a foolish thought right now, aren't you?" Morrigan spoke up, making me glance back at her. She sat sideways on the horse, along with Jill, because of their skirts. Morrigan was trying to hold onto Jill, but at the same time, touch her as little as possible. Her golden eyes bore into mine as if she could read my thoughts. "Being kind means nothing. What people miss are the convenient meals, not the person himself. They shall forget about him soon enough."

Halfdan snorted, then choked on a laugh when Morrigan snapped her gaze in his direction. He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender -- a wise choice. "She's not wrong, little brother. People might have liked him, and he sounded like a decent enough fellow, but you're worrying about enemies that aren't there. I doubt many would have liked him enough to spill blood over. Much less against the savior of Saxony.” He had a point there.

"Grimar talked to him," I pointed out, and that earned a pensive look from Halfdan. Alef was weak and flailing. He didn't have the influence or the strength to challenge me. Still, my enemies were joining forces against me and I didn't care for it. I cared for it far less now because my place within the laws of men was being called into question. It gave them room to maneuver. "I don't know about what, but Alef didn't leave the conversation happy."

"Should we have that discussion with the present company?" Halfdan asked, his gaze sliding to Jill. I half expected her to wilt under the look but she instead thrust out her chin, meeting his gaze defiantly. I wasn't sure when it happened exactly, but Jill had found her confidence. She was still shier than most, but she didn't bend to pressure. I'm guessing that was a result of exposure to Morrigan.

"I trust Jill," I stated, my tone making it clear that it wasn't up for debate. I saw Jill smile, and as if to reassure myself, blinked.

True Vision was a gift from the Gods that took some getting used to, mostly because of how it affected my senses. The world seemed to darken, as if the sun itself was extinguished. Color and detail faded away while the sounds of an army marching became muffled and distant. All of it made the things that I could see stand out that much more.

Jill was marked with a brilliant shining shade of blue. I couldn't really see her face when I used True Vision, but I could see enough detail to know that it was her. Likewise, Morrigan was marked in blue. Yet, the horse that they rode on was as gray as smoke and completely featureless.

Blue, as far as I could tell, marked someone that was an ally to me. Someone loyal. I was still learning what made someone be marked in blue, because while a fair number of my mercenaries were marked with the color, not all of them were. A fair number of them were marked with gray, the same shade of the horse. Likewise, I saw people that I never met before marked in blue -- the same shade that Jill and Morrigan were. What the color blue meant, I was still uncertain, but it undoubtedly meant good things -- Jill and Morrigan were marked with the color, and so were Thorkell and Halstien. All people that I trusted.

My gaze flickered to Halfdan, seeing him nodding. He was marked with a different color -- he was filled with the color gold that seemed to shimmer. I really had no idea what gold meant. I thought it could mean people and things of importance to me, but by that logic, Jill and Morrigan should also be marked with gold. Perhaps it marked those that were members of my family? A way to see my kin?

"And I have hardly saved Saxony," I continued, blinking, True Vision fading to let color and light return. It was disorienting.

To that, Thorkell grunted. "You've given them a chance. It's more than what Saxony would have had without you," he voiced. "It's going to come down to this. Holland. Saxony can't afford another year of constant fighting and I can't imagine that the Franks can take any more losses." He sounded confident in his statement, which led me to believe him. Since the war started, Saxony had been on the verge of losing.

"You believe that the Franks are nearly defeated?" Halfdan asked, earning a shake of Thorkell's head.

"Wouldn't say that. From what I've seen, Saxony doesn't have the strength to beat Francia. It is a vast and rich nation. But, I do think that after this, Francia will be weakened enough to start talking about peace. If King Widukind is smart -- and he is -- he'll take whatever Charlemagne offers. Even after all of this, Saxony isn't in a position to demand payment. What he needs is time to build up for the next war. And I'm sure Charlemagne thinks Saxony is more trouble than it's worth by now."

I looked ahead, pursing my lips. "It's a strange thought," I decided, "To think that the war might be over soon." So much had happened during it. It felt like an entire lifetime ago that I came to Saxony as a talented warrior under Horrik.

"All wars end sooner or later, but I wouldn't say it would be over exactly. I'd give it a few years -- ten at most -- before Charlemagne decides to return to Saxony. He's a great conqueror," he voiced, offering a shrug. That was also disheartening to hear. The idea that all the blood that had been spilled was only for a brief pause before Francia tried again to conquer the nation… it was almost insulting. But it was also true. How many wars had been fought between King Sigfred and Horrik over thirty years?

I said nothing in favor of looking ahead, seeing one of my scouts heading back directly towards us. I recognized him -- Authun, and he was marked with blue when I last saw him with True Vision.

"Lord Siegfried," he started, pulling back on his horse's reins, his expression telling me he had news before he spoke it. "We found traces of an army -- an old camp site. Two weeks old at most."

Hm. "Numbers?" I asked, suddenly finding myself far more suspicious of this invitation.

"Hard to say, but the camp's size was comparable to ours," Authun said, making my lips thin. An army of two thousand had been in the area in the last two weeks -- worse, they could outnumber us. That didn't bode well. I wasn't convinced that this was a blatant trap that was set for us, but I did think that Charlemagne wasn't as unaware of our actions as anyone would prefer.

I worked my jaw for a moment, my mind racing. "Inform Jarl Aldmund what you found. At the very least, they're not in the immediate area, or we would have found them." From my experience with the Saxons, it could be difficult finding an army, but scouts were our eyes and ears. My time being hunted across Francia taught me that lesson very well. Two weeks was a long time, but I could guess why two thousand men were here. Meaning that the army couldn't be far.

Authun nodded before continuing down the line. Jarl Aldmund allowed my company to take point. A position of honor, but I think he wanted us to secure the way for him if there was any trouble. I glanced at Thorkell to see that he had the same thought that I had, "They're pacifying the region."

"Charlemagne's clever. He'd know we'd have allies in the area," I agreed. "Did he split up his army again? He has a large border," I ventured as we rapidly neared what was our ultimate destination. I didn't know what the city was called, just that it was settled at the opening of a river that led further inland. There were a bunch of rivers in this land and some were far more easily traversed than others.

"Can't say at this point, but I'd put money on it. We ran amok in his kingdom and his people would need to feel protected, or they'd stop trusting his protection. It'd be a risk, but two thousand men, behind a set of strong walls, could hold fast for months. Enough time to recall his army." Thorkell offered, scratching at his scar. "But… that's how'd it be for a Jarl. Francia is a vast kingdom. It's entirely possible that this is just another army that he's gathered up."

He wasn't wrong there, but I don't think that it truly mattered in this case. If it was part of a larger army, then it must be defeated to secure an advantage and prevent reinforcements. If it wasn't, then it needed to be defeated for the same reasons. Best to beat them now while we had the chance before they could link up and become a greater threat.

"Francia really does seem to have an endless source of men," I remarked, deciding that the latter was just as likely, if not moreso, than the former. "Let us speak to Ageres and see if we shall be fighting alone in this battle."

As we marched on, what Thorkell said rang in my head like a bell.

The fate of the war would be decided in the coming days, here in Holland. And I couldn't help but feel that victory or defeat would be decided by my hands.

…

"Could you take it?" Halfdan leaned over and whispered to me as we looked up at the sturdy walls of the keep. It reminded me of the first in Saxony -- strong walls of cut stone that were stacked high. They weren't particularly tall -- two and a half men at most -- but they were lined with archers, who were trying to look as non-threatening as possible while also being ready to feather us like chickens if we tried anything.

I looked ahead, at the large double doors that had iron studs layered into the wood. Reinforcing it so it was wood, iron, then wood. Much harder to break through.

"Probably," I returned in a stage whisper, earning a chuckle from Halfdan. There was a town around the keep, and the keep itself was located at the heart of the town, atop of a hill. However, it had been abandoned upon our approach, the people fleeing within the walls. A prudent measure considering that we were still an invading army. Our army stopped at the edge of the town while a small group of us continued forward to have an audience.

"My name is Jarl Aldmund! I am here to speak with Ageres," Jarl Aldmund called out, making Halfdan's chuckles die down. Thorkell and Halstien were with the army, ready to take advantage of me being inside the keep if this was a betrayal. Halfdan only came with me because he wouldn't take no for an answer, just pinching my cheek and saying, 'I expect you to protect me, little brother.' And I hadn't the strength to argue.

In response, a man wearing fine armor and a nasal helm stepped up, looking down at us. I could see that he wasn't particularly happy to see us. "Duke Ageres has accepted your presence and extends a hand in friendship to you Norsemen. You are to be welcomed into his hall, but we require your word that there shall be no violence." He wasn't asking for our weapons. Good. He was at least smart enough to understand that we weren't so desperate to walk into such a blatant trap.

I rested a hand on the sword on my belt. I didn't wear it often, but seeing as it was a mark of status, and I would be meeting a Frankish Duke -- one that I hadn't captured, even -- it seemed important to bring. I even wore my feasting clothes. The warden of the castle looked at all of us, his gaze lingering on me, but it was Jarl Aldmund that spoke.

"We give our word," Jarl Aldmund agreed. And not a minute later, after a thump, the large double doors began to swing open to reveal a courtyard that was full of people. The people of the town. They had cleared a path to a second, if smaller, set of double doors that led to the keep itself. Soldiers were watching us -- me specifically -- as we trotted through the courtyard on our horses. Everyone's eyes were on us and I heard a general muttering in a language that I didn't know. That caught my interest.

I assumed they would be speaking Frankish.

Jarl Aldmund swung a leg over his horse, dismounting and approaching the door. I followed just behind him and Halfdan walked along side me with an easy going smile on his face. I saw him wink at one of the girls that were watching us, and that sent her running to her mother to hide behind her skirts. An innocent reaction, but… if they followed the old ways, would they really be so afraid of us?

My attention was stolen by the doors swinging open, revealing a portly looking man with gray hair. He bowed and spoke in that same language that I heard around us, but even if I couldn't understand a word of it, I saw that he was welcoming us into the keep. Jarl Aldmund strode forward, paying no attention to the man, and forced him to scamper after us to lead us to Ageric's brother. The halls were long and winding, but they were interesting.

On occasion, there would be statues of people. Men and women, whose faces sat on pedestals. It was as if someone had turned them to stone and mounted their heads on display. It was a disquieting feeling, I decided, because that very well could be the case. Some were cracked, or had pieces broken off, showing me that what turn these people into stone wasn't a thin layer. It had turned them into stone completely. I shot a look at Halfdan, who seemed equally disquieted by the heads.

"Christian magic?" He muttered, stepping away from the heads. Jarl Aldmund glanced at him, narrowing his eyes at my brother before we approached a final set of doors that were flanked by a handful of men. They were tense and watched us carefully -- because it was their duty or because they were planning a trap? I resisted the urge to grab hold of my axes, thinking that it would give me a way.

The doors opened revealing a large room. On the far side of it, seated in front of stained glass windows, was the man we were meeting. Even with a passing glance, he was clearly Ageric's brother. The resemblance was very strong, even if he was a few years younger. Still older than me, but younger than Halfdan. Upon his brow was a thin band of gold, his clothing fine, and his expression blank. There were a handful of guards in the large room, all evenly spaced under a window that marked the walls. A dozen and a half. Presentation, or men to close the trap around us.

I blinked and brought forth True Vision, my gaze affixed on the would be Duke. The one that was betraying his kin.

To my immense surprise, he was completely grayed out.

My lips thinned, seeing that the rest were similarly gray. Gray, as far as I could tell, marked someone or something that was neutral or unimportant. Or perhaps not loyal. Would that change once we made a deal? Or would he only turn red when his deception was revealed?

We marched forward, coming to a stop a polite distance away and the man standing next to Ageres spine up, his hands clasped behind his back. "Before you sits King Ageres, of the Agress line. The true King of Holland and the Netherlands," he introduced Ageres in accented Germanic. He, like everyone else, was gray, so I let True Vision fade away. He was handsome, I noticed. He trimmed his beard, but he had a long mustache and his hair was cut short. I would have thought him to be a thrall, but his fine clothing marked him as someone wealthy.

"Well met… King Ageres," Jarl Aldmund offered, hesitating to say the stated title. "We are here in response to your request for aid. To liberate our fellows from the Christian yolk and secure your kingdom for you." I didn't know Jarl Aldmund well. He was a private man, but he struck me as reasonable. At least when he wasn't supporting an argument that I should exist outside of the laws because I was too powerful for them. Still, I could hear it in his voice that he didn't respect Ageres. Or his claim to a title that he hadn't won yet.

I heard the words being translated into Ageres's ear but he gave no reaction to them. I would need to learn this language. There were so many of them and while my physical prowess was growing, my Learning stats had stagnated. When the words were translated, Ageres said something, and then the man that spoke before translated the words.

"You honor us with your presence. My King poses a question -- you," he said, looking at me. "Are you the one known as Seigfried the Wolf-Kissed? The one that captured the false Duke Ageric, my king's brother?" He questioned, and I couldn't say I particularly cared for his tone.

Before I could answer, Jarl Aldmund spoke for me. "He is," he said, his tone as flat as the man's. He spoke the words as if they were a warning, and based on how the well dressed man reacted, he took it as one. It was fascinating to see, in a way. I saw everyone in the room growing tense, tales about me having reached them. I could see it in their eyes now -- the understanding that if this was a trap… it wouldn't be enough to stop me. For they had invited the wolf into their home.

"King Ageres greets the famed Seigfried the Wolf-Kissed. His brother, a Christian he might be, has spoken well of the treatment that he received as a captive," the well dressed man uttered, despite the fact that Ageres had said nothing. Ageres's gaze flickered to him, his brow creasing for a moment before he smoothed it out. It seemed that Ageres didn't speak any Germanic. Or he was puzzled by what he was saying.

I wasn't really sure how to respond for a couple of reasons. Ageres was plotting to overthrow his brother. To betray his kin. I already didn't care for him because of that fact. Was he expressing genuine gratitude? Was it even coming from Ageres at all? More than that, what should I even say? 'You're welcome that I didn't treat your brother badly after extorting exorbitant amounts of gold and silver from him? Twice?' Actually, if he was claiming the kingdom of Holland, then I imagine he was rather sore that I had emptied out his coffers.

"King Ageres," Jarl Aldmund spoke up, as if realizing that I had no idea what to say after a brief pause, "Now that the introductions are out of the way -- Wolf-Kissed and I are here to discuss the agreement. We noticed several burnt out villages on our way here, as well as traces of an army."

Ageress' face pinched when the words were translated to him. He spoke, and his tone sounded… dismissive. Annoyed. I couldn't tell exactly because I had no idea what he was saying, but it did make the well dressed man close his eyes for a brief second. Then he spoke, "With the coming of Spring, King Charlemagne left an army of three thousand men within the borders of Holland. For our protection, he claimed. However, this army under the leadership of the false Duke Ageric, has been oppressing our people. The villages you found were destroyed for heresy."

Ageric was leading the army? I suppose his leg healed well then. Still, the well dressed man didn't seem to be lying.

"It was for this reason that my most noble King reached out to the bold King Widukind, requesting aid in the liberation of our own lands just as he fights for Saxony. Together, our forces shall be undefeatable -- protected by the gods, and we shall surely rebuff King Charlemagne's armies and influences." Flowery words, I decided, but there was passion leaking into his voice. My face flickered to Ageres to see that his gaze was starting to wander.

Bored. He looked bored.

"Do you know where this army currently is?" I spoke up, earning a sharp look from Jarl Aldmund but a broad smile from the man who spoke. Ageres vaguely looked interested when I spoke, and he tugged a sleeve on his translator's sleeve.

"Of course, Wolf-Kissed. We know exactly where they are. As well as the fact that they are accompanied by two of King Charlemagne's paladins," he continued and my mind was made up with those words. Deal or no deal…

We needed to crush that army.