Legends Never Die: The Last Act (ch. 36) (Patreon)

I had never seen so many people in one place before, I thought, seated on top of a horse at the crest of the hill that would serve as the final battlefield of the war. It looked exactly as King Widukind, who was next to me, had  built it. Directly before us were thousands upon thousands of people -- a shield wall that felt like it could stretch on for miles and miles and at no less than twenty men thick at its thinnest. Fourteen thousand Saxons and Norsemen, in addition to three thousand Dutchmen. Almost twenty thousand men in total.

Had the world ever seen such a fighting force? It didn't seem like it was possible. Since I began fighting this war, it felt like the battles only grew in scale, and this was the ultimate culmination of it. Because, across from us, were the Franks. They lined themselves up across from us, further than most of our bows could reach. Their formation was just as long as ours, but not as thick.

"They number ten thousand," I voiced, after using the longest use of Fast Counter that I had ever experienced. Which put the Franks at what we expected for their numbers. Ten thousand against our twenty thousand. I felt confident. We outnumbered them nearly two to one, counting the Dutch.

"The Paladins?" King Widukind asked, his voice low and serene. In response to that, the color of the world faded away. Most of the men were gray, but more than a few of them were red. However, eight of them were outlined in gold.

King Charlemagne and seven of his paladins. We had captured Astolfo and killed Arda, meaning that he should still have eleven left. I didn't see them on the field. Was he holding them in reserve? "There. He's guarded by seven of them," I said, pointing to the King some distance away. He was easy to mark out even without True Sight. He sat on top of a white horse, wearing armor with a helm that had a gold crown hammered into it.

He looked no less impressive than the first time I saw him, which felt nothing less than an entire lifetime ago.

"They have less cavalry than expected," King Widukind muttered, fretting before the battle began. "We were told to expect three thousand, and I see a thousand at most." That was a discrepancy, but one that was easily explained.

"He might have unhorsed them. Do horses fight well on hills?" I asked, because I didn't know. I just knew that during the early battles of the war, the Franks hadn't dared to charge up a hill with their cavalry. Though, was that because they didn't want to attack a fortified position?

"You underestimate King Charlemagne," King Widukind continued, glancing at the boy king at his side. It was what everyone called him. I genuinely didn't think he knew. "Everyone does. They forget that he is in the position he is for good reason. By the grace of his God and his own cunning. No, we must be vigilant." King Widukind's attitude was against the grain of the warriors.

Many were jeering across the field and laughing. Confident in our victory.

Perhaps overconfident?

"If he has any unexpected surprises, that is what my men are for," I pointed out, and I saw the words did have a soothing effect on the Saxon King. His grip on the reins if his horse lessened, though his jaw still clenched. He was feeling the pressure, more than anyone else in the army. With how tense he was, you would think we were the ones outnumbered. Though, it would be a lie to say that I wasn’t a little nervous myself. The Paladins of Charlemagne would be a challenge. I fought Astolfo evenly, but fighting two-on-one? I’d quickly find myself overwhelmed.

That was something that bode ill for the entire army. More than that, I knew that the battle hinged on my ability to keep the paladins occupied. To defeat them. It was an incredible weight on my shoulders, and I was feeling it keenly as I gazed out at their assembled army, the sun overhead in the early afternoon with a sky full of clouds.

“Aye,” King Widukind decided to respond, a frown in his voice. “That’s what you are here for,” he agreed. "The sacrifices have been made. The omens are good. We shall win on this field and continue onward to Brussels and Antwerp. Sacking them will solidify our victory and position when we offer him terms. This… this shall work," he continued, sounding like he was trying to convince himself of it. The sacking of the two cities, I knew, would be revenge for Verdan.

Of course it relied on us crushing the army before us, but that seemed more likely than not. King Charlemagne must know that he couldn't afford to lose this battle any more than we could.

That was perhaps why the Frankish King urged his horse forward, accompanied by a handful of men and one of which raised a white flag. King Widukind narrowed his eyes at the action, and I saw him digging a fingernail underneath the nail of his thumb. A habit I noticed he was developing. The group was pushing through the army, approaching the space between us. "They wish to speak," King Widukind voiced, sounding suspicious of the move.

"It's an opportunity to kill him," Grimar remarked, seated nearby.

"Not with two of the paladins there," I refuted, looking out at them. Only two of the seven paladins marched forward with the group of Frankish nobles -- King Charlemagne, I saw Ageric, as well as a man that I didn't recognize. The paladins were marked by their odd armor. Both of them men, but they couldn't be more different from each other. One was a large man, likely standing taller than my own father, with broad shoulders. He carried a shield in one hand and strapped at his hip was a sword -- a poor weapon for fighting, but I saw no others on him. The second paladin was a clean shaven man with shaggy black hair, also tall but on the lean side.

I would be fighting them both before this battle ended, I knew that much.

"We'll take them on their offer," King Widukind decided, urging his horse forward. "If nothing else, I'll see how confident he finds himself." As he marched forward, I followed him along with King Ageres, Grimar, Jarl Aldmund and Halfdan. My brother rode beside me,his trophy bow hanging off the side of his horse. For that alone, I suspected that this wouldn't be a friendly conversation.

Our two groups met in the middle, though we both remained some distance away from each other. Just in case it did come to a fight. King Charlemagne appeared regal seated upon his horse, his gaze flickering across all of us. Ageric only had eyes for his brother, Ageres, who met his glare with an expression of disinterest. I found myself meeting the eyes of the large man, who frowned down at me while the other paladin took notice of my brother. A profound silence blossomed between us, neither side speaking of making the first move.

"Widukind… it's not often that I regret giving a man mercy, but you have tested the very depths of my patience," King Charlemagne began before his gaze flickered to me. "And you, Siegfried. Forgive me for saying it, but I really do wish I had killed you when I had the chance."

"No need for forgiveness, King Charlemagne. The feeling is mutual," I told him, making the large man scowl in my direction, a hand falling onto his sword. I cocked my head at him, shifting my grip back on my Dane-axe, giving me more reach. I would need it fighting him, I suspected.

King Charlemagne seemed to find that funny based on his chuckle. "You have the luck of the Devil, Widukind. I imagine without him, this second rebellion would have died a dog's death outside of Frankfurt. I do wonder what the histories shall write? That you led this rebellion or that it was won by the Wolf-Kissed?" He questioned, making my name sound like an insult. But, the insult was for King Widukind. King Charlemagne was ignoring his titles and questioning his valor.

"I suppose that would depend on who wins on this field, Charles," King Widukind returned, making the Franks bristle at the blatant disrespect more than the insinuation. "History shall remember the victors and you… for all that you have accomplished, you will only be remembered for your defeat."

King Charlemagne was the only one that didn't seem angered by the remark. "A sharp tongue you have. Good. I would expect nothing less. Regardless of who you truly owe your victories to, I will acknowledge what you have accomplished. Your victories are numerous, and you've caused a great deal of trouble. Truly, you are a test from God for me and my kingdom." He spoke the words as if they were praise rather than with anger.

"My gods demand vengeance and blood for Verdan. You made this war one between our gods, King Widukind. Even if you wish to surrender, I can't allow it. Offer yourself to me, and I give you my word that you shall be the only one that dies on this day." King Widukind stated. I glanced at him, trying to read his expression. It was the large paladin that responded first, urging his horse forward to protect King Charlemagne while I did the same for King Widukind.

"Roland, there is no need," King Charlemagne said, naming the paladin for me.

Roland looked down at me, his hair a dark brown and there was a close beard on his cheeks. His dark blue eyes narrowed at me. "Astolfo and Arda. Which one of them died?" He asked me, his voice low and threatening.

"Arda," I answered. "She died well and she is surely feasting with your God. Astolfo is my prisoner, but she has been treated well." I told her, making his eyes narrow into slits.

"She-" Roland started, but King Charlemagne interjected.

"Roland. You need not fret, Otto has vouched for the young pagan," he voiced, bringing my attention to him. He inclined his head to me, but his eyes were hard.

Otto has found his way back then? And he found favor with the Frankish King? Good. Unless, "He's not here, is he?" I asked, retreating back when Roland did the same.

"No. Otto is with my children. There are few men of such faith and conviction, and I hope that he imparts some of it onto them," he admitted, and that was good to hear. I didn't need to worry about him during the battle. "As for your offer, King Widukind -- I'm afraid that I must refuse. If I harbored doubts about our victory on this field, then I would consider it -- but God has laid out my destiny for me. I shall crush you here, and reconquer your lands. Perhaps beyond them as you pagans have proven to be especially stubborn."

No one was surprised by the refusal, but I certainly was by what he said next, "I shall extend to you the same offer, King Widukind. Offer yourself to me -- as well as you, Ageres -- and I shall grant you a quick death. You'll be beheaded. No torture or humiliation. A clean noble death, in addition you shall save these men on this field." I realized that King Widukind was speaking the truth. King Charlemagne was confident. I thought that it was him hiding his doubts, but if he was extending an offer like that…

If I couldn't see him right now, I would have called it a desperate gambit. Bluster and bravado to avoid a fight… but that wasn't it. King Charlemagne looked like he thought he was extending a kindness. Like he sincerely thought that King Widukind should take the offer, for his own sake. It was unnerving.

"I'm afraid that I too shall reject your offer," King Widukind returned, his voice decidedly even. Then, in Germanic, he spoke to the Count. "I cannot speak for your king. This is a decision he shall make."

The Count nodded, relaying the words to Ageres in Dutch. And I realized that Ageres didn't speak Frankish either. He only spoke Dutch. Which shouldn't be too surprising, in hindsight -- most people only spoke one language, but I thought that the nobility of Francia would at least share a language.

"Do you think we shall win?" Ageres asked in Dutch, looking to the Count while keeping an eye on his brother. Ageric simply stared at him, his expression so blank that it expressed his simmering fury perfectly.

"King Charlemagne is confident," the Count admitted. "We should stick to the plan-"

"No. No, this was a foolish idea," Ageres decided, looking at King Charlemagne, then at his brother. He was getting cold feet, I realized. The point of no return had arrived, and he was looking back to reconsider the course of action. "Brother -- this is a trick. I was the one telling you where to find the pagans." He confessed in Dutch, speaking freely because no other person spoke it. Or so they thought.

The Count's expression pinched, clearly displeased but he swallowed his words.

Ageric narrowed his eyes, "Twice the traitor then, brother?" He asked with a snarl in his voice. The others realized that a conversation was taking place with King Widukind sliding his gaze to me. I didn't visibly react beyond doing what the others were doing, watching the exchange but pretending I had no idea what was being said. "Father would be ashamed of your stupidity and cowardice. First, you betray me and our King, and now you switch sides in the final hour?"

"I was never on the side of the Pagans!" Ageres protested, starting to seem a little panicked now that he saw it wasn't that easy to switch sides. "That's why I gave you information!"

"You gave it to leave a back door open to your treachery," Ageric refuted, not believing it in the slightest. "It means nothing."

"Then what must I do, brother? How must I prove my loyalty?" Ageres all but begged, sounding afraid. Terrified.

Ageric clenched his jaw, and I could see him visibly swallowing down what he wanted to say initially. "I see our people on the left wing, by the river. When the time comes, you shall do nothing. That is how you can prove your loyalty." He sounded angry that he even had to give this chance.

"It shall be done, brother!" Ageres agreed easily and without thought. He only cared for his own skin and it took a great deal of effort to not scowl at how easily he intended to betray us. Ageric was simply doing what he should -- ensuring that he won the battle. It was his brother that was the traitor. The twice traitor.

"Well?" King Widukind questioned, looking at the Count. The Count swallowed thickly before responding.

"My king has decided to stand with you, King Widukind," he informed with a bow.

King Widukind nodded, and then in stilted Frankish, he spoke to King Charlemagne. "Your offer has been refused twice over," he informed. The Frankish King didn't at all appear surprised.

"You wouldn't have made it this far without guile," King Charlemagne acknowledged. "Very well. If you shall not surrender, then we shall simply settle this with blood and steel. May God have mercy on your souls, pagans, for you shall find none from me." He decided, inclining his head to King Widukind and myself before he turned his horse around and began to march away. I watched his back for a long moment before I found myself meeting the gaze of the two paladins that lingered.

"Siegfried Eirkson," I introduced myself to both of them. They shared a glance at that, and it was the smaller one that spoke first.

"Olivier de Vienne," Olivier introduced himself with a nod, placing a fist on his breastplate. A sign of acknowledgement.

Roland paused for a moment, his nostrils flaring as he released a sigh. "Roland, leader of Charlemagne's Paladins. I would give thought to accepting my King's offer. Abandon your false gods and seek absolution -- I have no wish to kill a boy," Roland stated. I got the impression it was a genuine offer, but we both knew the answer.

"I cannot abandon my gods anymore than King Charlemagne could abandon his," I told him, making his eyes narrow. "I shall see you both soon, I suspect," I said, turning my horse around and following the others that already began to depart. They seemed strong, I decided, meeting Halfdan's questioning look. It would be a challenge to defeat them. But, it was a task I must accomplish all the same.

"Halfdan," I began, speaking slowly in Norse, my gaze sliding to Ageres, who seemed nervous despite his best efforts to hide it. The Count was looking at King Widukind, as if he were trying to catch his eye. Halfdan leaned in to hear me, "Ageres means to betray us. The Dutch shall be awaiting a signal from the Franks -- but they won't attack. He said that the Dutch would do nothing."

Halfdan pursed his lips, "Sounds like we can expect an attack from the river, then." To that, I nodded in agreement. The Dutch had asked to be placed on the left flank, by the river. Despite what Ageres made it sound, I think this betrayal wasn't as sudden as it appeared. He and the Count -- they had been planning this for some time. Perhaps not out of ill intent from the start, but out of a desire to keep their options open should the Saxons be defeated. "What do you want to do about it? Kill him?"

That was the question. "It is King Widukind's decision," I decided, but I thought we should do exactly that -- kill him for his betrayal. The Dutch that fought with us were our people, those that chose to rise up against the Franks. They would be punished alongside the Saxons should we be defeated. Ageres would betray us for nothing more than his own safety. I didn't respect him before, but I actively disliked him now. He was a traitor of the worst sort. "The Count will be watching me. You need to slip him the message," I told Halfdan.

"Will do, little brother," Halfdan said, tossing a wink my way before he rode up to Jarl Aldmund, passing the message to him. Who would then pass it to King Widukind as we rejoined the army, coming to a stop in front of it.

Kind Widukind didn't react to the news in the slightest. I could only imagine what was going on in his head, but whatever it was, he kept it to himself. Instead, he addressed the army before him. "My warriors!" King Widukind shouted at the top of his lungs, trying to address the entire army at once. There was a shocking amount of strength in his voice that his fretting and exhaustion had hidden before, and I had little doubt that every Saxon on the field could hear him. "Long have we awaited this day! The day that we shall finally be free of the Frankish rule! Our oppressors!"

The army roared in approval at the start of the speech, and King Widukind was forced to wait until they started to quiet down. "They have debased us! They extorted our harvests! They raped our women! They slaughtered our people and insulted our gods!" He continued, and I could see the anger in the army. Thousands of expressions twisting with mirrored expressions -- the same anger that brought them all here. The anger and fury that made them leave their homes in droves to fight. "We have suffered many defeats to reach this day. We have suffered losses so terrible I dare not speak of them. However, with our will and the favor of the gods, we are here!"

"We are here for vengeance!" King Widukind exclaimed, the army roaring in agreement. "We are here for blood! We aren't just here for our freedom from the Franks and their corpse god, but to appease the dead! Their spirits are restless and they demand retribution for what they suffered at the hands of the men before us! There shall be no quarter given! No surrender will be accepted! We shall turn this field red in an ocean of blood! For Blood and Verdan!" He finished his speech, and the army roared.

It seemed to shake the air itself, completely deafening me to anything else in the world at that moment. It was a single unified warcry of tens of thousands of people all dedicating themselves to a single cause. It was incredible to see. Awe inspiring. My horse shifted at the sound, overwhelmed by it, but I patted his neck to soothe him. The army was already in high spirits, but now they were chomping at the bit to get to the Franks. Enough so that I thought some of them were going to break ranks to run across the field, and if they did, they'd probably take the whole army with them.

King Widukind seemed pleased with the result before he continued onward, climbing the hill as the army continued to scream at the Franks, who shouted back with defiance. I could only hear myself once we were standing at the top of the hill, and only because all of the screaming was directed toward the Franks. The Saxon King leaned down to me as I took my place by his side, and though I heard it as if it were a whisper, King Widukind was shouting.

"You shamed me, Siegfried," he informed me, making me go very still. I whipped my head around to him to see that there was no anger in his face that the words had implied. I opened my mouth to deny the accusation, but he continued. "You spoke to King Charlemagne as an equal and spoke for me," he pointed out.

… I couldn't deny the accusation, as much as I would like to. I hadn't intended to be insolent. The opposite, really. I intended to defer to him, but when King Charlemagne acknowledged me… and insulted King Widukind…

"I apologize-"

"There is no need for an apology. Not to me. Another King might take great offense to what you did, but I am not that King. I'm just a man that happens to have a crown, Siegfried. Unlike King Charlemagne, who is a true King." King Widukind sounded faintly amused by that. "I only tell you this so you can learn from it. Regardless of the outcome of this battle, I suspect your story shall not end here. It is important that you know these things because you will find yourself in the presence of kings before and after you become one yourself."

I never told King Widukind of my plan to usurp Horrki's crown.

Slowly, I inclined my head to him, realizing the depth of my folly. I still had so much to learn, I decided, looking out at the battlefield. I was forced to reflect on everything that led me up until this point -- my betrayal at the hands of Horrik and his kin. The successes and failures that I experienced over the past year and a half. The lessons that I had learned, both from other people's mistakes as well as the hard and painful way.

It has been a long road until this point, and King Widukind was right -- the road was longer still. The only difference between then and now was, I understood how much I didn't understand.

I had set off on this quest of vengeance without really understanding what vengeance was. What it could mean. The costs that it had.

I understood my ignorance.

"Thank you, King Widukind," I told him, earning a small nod from the Saxon King who chose to impart one last lesson.

"No, Siegfried. Thank you," he told me before he drew his sword and pointed it at the sky. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with air, and with a shout that echoed over the chaos, he gave the order.

"My warriors! CHARGE!"