Legends Never Die: Well Earned Rewards (ch. 39) (Patreon)

I had absolutely no idea what happened, I realized, utterly exhausted and completely spent. I managed to block the charge that would have cost us the battle, but I had no idea what King Widukind did to win the battle itself. However, I knew that we had won, because Rinaldo's expression crumpled to one of pure horror, as if the very worst case scenario had transpired. He looked at me, panic shining in his eyes as his grip tightened on his sword. I was on a knee, trying to get my breathing under control, and each breath made the pain in my ribs worse.

Roland was there not a minute later, covered in blood and gore, his cloak gone and his armor was already stained with it. Blood dripped in a river from his sword as he reunited with Rinaldo, grabbing his fellow Paladin by the shoulder. "The battle has been lost," Roland stated, a cold fury in his voice. "We must withdraw," he continued, his gaze meeting mine. Around us, I saw the cavalry was withdrawing already, and the Paladins would be entirely without support.

We could try to bury them in bodies, like Grimar tried to do. But the fact of the matter was that Roland was standing here after Grimar sent near two hundred men at him. I genuinely had no idea how many men it would take to kill him and the only true wound he seemed to sustain was the small cut I had given him on the cheek. It would be a cold, ruthless action -- trading hundreds of lives for two.

"Siegfried -- allow us to withdraw in peace, and I shall spare your life," Roland told me, his tone blunt. It was an incredible threat to utter when you were half surrounded by an army. And it was a very telling sign that I believed him. I'm uncertain if the rest of the army could kill him after he killed me, because there was precious little doubt in my mind that he would be able to kill me.

Was it worth the risk? I took a quick moment to consider it. The Dutch and the Norsemen were looking upon Roland with fear. If they saw me die at his hands, I think it could be a route. Which would open up the pass that we blocked, allowing them to continue their charge. Something that could swing the battle back into the favor of the Franks.

Slowly, I nodded my head, "Go with peace, Roland and Rinaldo." I told them, forcing myself to stand. The words might sound like I was letting them live, but the three of us knew who had been spared on this battlefield.

"We shall meet again," Roland swore, the words sounding like a threat and turning away with Rinaldo. The army parted for him, none daring to attack Roland. He cowed them completely. It was humbling. There was no other word to describe it. I thought I might be angry at my defeat at his hands, because he had certainly bested me in battle even if we did win the war. And there was anger, and even humiliation, but above all else was… the realization that the road ahead was a lot longer than I had imagined it to be.

When they were gone, the Frank cavalry withdrawing completely, I collapsed to my knees and cradled my broken arm.

The road was long indeed.

…

The battle didn't truly end there. It was late noon when the Franks gave the call to retreat and until morning of the next day, our army chased them. In comparison to the deaths and injuries that both sides gave each other during the actual battle, the losses the Franks sustained were far greater when they were retreating back to Antwerp. Men fled into the forests and marshy terrain, and there they were either captured or killed. Given the blood debt that was established, most were killed.

In the half day that passed, the Franks lost near three thousand men, leaving them closer to six thousand men than not when they arrived at Antwerp. An unwalled city. Of those three thousand, a thousand were prisoners.

And it was only when our army arrived at Antwerp did King Widukind find a moment to speak to me. "You've earned some scars, Wolf-Kissed," King Widukind remarked, as light as a feather when he entered my tent. Morrigan was changing my bandages and making sure my arm was bound tightly. She set the bone, and it was a clean break according to her. Though, it would be weeks before I could use the arm.

"Aye, I did," I agreed. My ribs hadn't been broken by the punch, but they nearly did. Morrigan said that they were cracked and it was nothing short of the will of the gods that they hadn't finished breaking. In truth, for the past day, I had been completely out of it. To the point that I didn't know what was going on beyond the fact that we were chasing down the Frank army. "Do you need me, King Widukind?"

"King Charlemagne has offered terms for peace," King Widukind said, and it was as if a decades worth of exhaustion was washed away. He seemed so light he could fly away. "I would have you there, if you're able." I could tell that he wasn't used to seeing me injured. I glanced at Morrigan, who was glaring up at the king with open anger.

"Intent on using him one last time?" Morrigan spat, her tone curt and furious.

King Widukind weathered the anger well, "It was strategy. Everyone expected Wolf-Kissed to be the one that decided the battle -- and he did -- just not in the way anyone expected. All eyes were on him, watching his every move… which is why they never noticed Jarl Aldmund and Hrypa charging from behind. On the very first day, I had five thousand men sneak off into the night to make a long loop around their formation. They arrived in position on the third day. On the fourth, they waited for the charge before delivering their own." King Widukind explained and I tried to recall seeing either Jarl Aldmund or Hrypa after the first day.

I also couldn't recall counting our number after the first day either.

King Widukind had used me until the very end, I realized. I also thought it would be my actions that would end the war. And that assumption wasn't wholly wrong, it just wasn't what I envisioned. My lips thinned and my brow furrowed in thought, emotions warring in my chest. I…

"I ask that you attend because the discussions concern you. Astolfo remains your prisoner, and the body of Olivier remains in your custody," he said, inclining his head to me. The peace talks were happening, meaning that it was time for ransoms. I took Olivier's body from the battlefield to prevent it from being desecrated like many of the other bodies of Franks were.

Swallowing a sigh, I nodded, "I shall attend the talks." I decided, rising to my feet.

"My thanks, Wolf-Kissed. Once the talks are over, I suspect you and I have many things to discuss." He offered, leaving my tent, and before he was out of earshot, Morrigan immediately started to bad mouth him.

"T'is maddening that you hold that man in such regard," Morrigan muttered, shooting me a sharp look as she helped me dress. My tunic was put on and with a small wince, I put my arm in the sling. My ribs were bandaged, but it was only confirmable standing straight.

"He is a good king," I decided. "He used me well," I admitted. Every step of the way, King Widukind had played me. He knew I was special and he used my abilities, reputation, influence, and presence to win the war. I didn't truly mind since I wanted to win as much as he did, but now that the war was over… it was extremely glaring how much I was used. "If I was in his position, I would have done the same. As would you," I pointed out.

Morrigan scowled at me, "You aren’t in his position.” She pointed out, rather aptly.

I offered her a tired smile, “Yet.” I reminded her, pushing my hair out of my face. I looked at a piece of polished brass to see my reflection -- my beard was still very thin and very wispy, and only in spots. I couldn’t wait for the day that I had a full beard like my father.

The reminder instantly soothed her irritation and I found her smirking back at me, “Lessons from a master, then?” She questioned, and that was a rather odd way to put it, but it wasn’t wholly wrong. King Widukind taught me a great deal over the course of the war, both in words and in deeds. And this battle, the one that won the war, was the greatest lesson of them all. I was a cornerstone to winning the battle, but not the one that delivered the final blow, and he used that expectation to deceive anyone.

King Widukind truly had the cunning of a fox and wits that the All-father himself would approve of.

“Have everyone gather up. It could be a battle. And if it’s not, then we still have business to attend to in Francia,” I told her, earning a curt nod. The treasure that we buried. “Where is Jill?”

“Off to speak to her brother. She intends to convince him to flee if he doesn't intend to ask you for mercy. T’is a hopeless endeavor and she knows it. However, she wouldn’t be able to forgive herself if she didn’t at least make the attempt,” Morrigan informed, her tone telling me not to be cross. I inclined my head to her, knowing that I should let her make the attempt.

Grimar… I had very conflicted feelings about Grimar. When I first met him, I wasn’t really anything different than what he called me -- a child barking like a dog and pretending to be a man. I was so angry and hurt that I lashed out, trying to provoke a challenge so I could kill him legally. We managed to come to an accord after the massacre of Verdun, and since then, we had been in a terse peace. That changed when he rode to my rescue, regardless of his feelings for me.

I almost hoped that Jill convinced him to flee. It would make what happened next far easier to bear.

Once I was dressed and armed, I sat on a horse. I winced when it moved into a trot, each step sending a flash of pain in my side, but it was manageable. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to a fight. As I marched through the army, I saw many wide eyed stares following me. Despite me not single handily winning the battle, the story of my battle with Roland and Rinaldo had traveled. Predictably, it was already virtually unrecognizable from the truth based on the snippets I heard on the way.

Meeting up with King Widukind and his Jarls, we set out to Antwerp. It was a small city or a big town. It didn’t have any walls to speak of, but the buildings were made out of stone rather than wood. In front of the main road, just outside the edge of the city, was King Charlemagne and three nobles. There was a single Paladin with them, but I didn’t know them at a glance.

We met in the middle of our two armies once again, and I quickly noticed that King Charlemagne carried himself with barely contained fury. I saw it in his face as we approached. His expression was tight, his eyes narrowed, and there was a muscle spasming in his jaw as he regarded us. He was furious. It was evident when you compared him to how he was before the battle started. I was actually a little impressed with his composure.

“King Charlemagne,” King Widukind greeted, his voice cool.

“King Widukind,” he returned, his gaze flickering to me for but a moment. “You proved to be a greater threat than I anticipated.”

King Widukind wore a slight smile, “High praise coming from you.”

“Quite,” King Charlemagne agreed however begrudgingly. “I shall be brief with you -- I see little point in continuing hostilities with you and your nation. I am here to discuss terms for peace.” The words were curt and direct, displeasure radiating from everyone on the Frank side of the line. I searched their expressions -- Ageric was neutral, but I knew him well enough to know that he was seething. The other nobles I didn’t recognize. The Paladin wore a helmet that obscured their face, but when I looked to them, I saw blue eyes that were boring a hole into me.

King Widukind inclined his head, “Before Verdun, what I desired was peace and liberation. For Saxony to be free and for us to practice our ways without fear of your god. Now, however, a simple ceasefire will not suffice. My people have suffered greatly under your brief rule and many were slaughtered. I will see that repaid,” he began. “For peace, you must make an oath on your life and to your god that you shall never attempt to invade Saxony in your life time. Your priests are not allowed within our lands. We shall take payment for pain and suffering in the form of ten thousand pounds of gold and silver.”

It said a great deal about the wealth that King Charlemagne had because he didn’t so much as blink at the number. “For your withdrawal back to your lands, I am willing to make such an oath. However, despite what you might believe, there are good Christians within your lands. I will see them have a shepherd. Either by welcoming them to my lands or having priests grant them spiritual guidance.” He didn’t mention the cost of gold and silver. That told me that King Widukind could have asked for more.

King Widukind narrowed his eyes a fraction, “Should they wish to leave our lands, then they are welcome to it. Better to leave willingly than to be lynched.” There was a hard edge to the words, a clear threat that went heard by everyone.

“That is acceptable,” King Charlemagne decided. “I understand you possess a number of prisoners. You desire ten thousand pounds of gold and silver -- I offer this. Eleven thousand pounds for both your blood money and a ransom for my soldiers.” His gaze flickered to me, “I shall pay five hundred pounds for the return of Astolfo. Provided that he is unharmed.”

He? I had heard that Franks were reluctant for their women folk to fight, but to deny that Astolfo was a woman entirely?

“The Wolf-Kissed can make his own negotiation for his prisoner,” King Widukind stated, granting me permission. He was making a statement. Using me again. By commanding me, he increased his own standing.

I slowly nodded at the offer, “I shall accept the ransom. I possess Olivier’s body and arms. They shall be returned to you with her,” I told the Frankish King, who blinked in surprise. The rest seemed moderately surprised. I’m not sure why. Olivier was a warrior worthy of respect. Regardless of his gods, being pagan or Christian,

King Charlemagne nodded, “The offer does you credit, Siegfried. The bargain is struck. And for the rest of my men?” He questioned, looking to King Widukind.

“Their release is nonnegotiable,” King Widukind replied, his tone cold. I fought the confusion off of my face while the Frank’s narrowed their eyes. “The prisoners that we captured have been marked as sacrifices for the gods. As I said, King Charlemagne, a simple ceasefire would not be enough. My people require blood for the temple you so callously descreated with the blood of the innocent.”

Ageric snarled, “You savage!” He snapped at King Widukind. “What of the innocent blood that you have shed in this war? How many cities were sacked? How many homes ravaged by your bands of barbarians?!” He raged, a hand going to the sword at his belt. Instantly, the tension between both parties swelled to the point of breaking. The Paladin urged their horse forward, intent on cutting me down first. Thankfully, King Charlemagne raised a hand to calm them.

“The difference is that we have won, Duke Ageric,” King Widukind replied, his tone indifferent to the tension. “If this is unacceptable to you, then the war shall continue. We will attack this city and we shall slaughter everyone within it. To the last man, woman, and child. Not even a dog, cat, or a mouse shall escape our wrath. On this, I give you my word. Accept the peace that you have been given, my lords. The offer will only come once.”

Unease filled me at the declaration. I could hear the truth in King Widukind’s words. He meant them. I gazed out at Antwerp, trying to guess how many people would be inside of the city. Two thousand? Three? In addition to the six thousand soldiers? We would win, if only because we had sheer overwhelming numbers at this point. More than three to one. We would win. And it would be an absolute slaughter.

More importantly, King Charlemagne believed him too. “God damn you, King Widukind.”

“Do we have an accord? Ten thousand pounds of gold and silver, the Christian yolk will be allowed to leave my kingdom, and an oath sworn that you will never lead an invasion into my lands for the remainder of your life.” They weren’t questions. They were demands. I saw King Charlemagne work his jaw for a moment, clearly irritated and his composure cracking despite all of his efforts.

“What of my citizens that your people have taken as slaves?” He questioned, and he was met with a quick reply.

“Spoils of war,” King Widukind replied.

King Charlemagne’s nostrils flared in response, but he restrained himself. He was silent for a long moment, gazing hard at the Saxon king. I saw it in his eyes that this wouldn’t be the end of it. There might be a ceasefire, but there wouldn’t be peace. Not after this. His grip tightened on his reigns before he closed his eyes, taking in a slow breath as if he were swallowing his first, second, third and forth response. When he settled on a fifth, he opened his eyes, “Very well. The accord is struck.”

Ageric glanced at King Charlemagne, his expression one of absolute betrayal. He swallowed it down, “And of my brother? This would be king of Holland?”

To that, King Widukind offered a slight smile. “The open rebellion of Holland is not of my concern. You may discuss terms with your brother. If you can find him,” he remarked before turning his horse away. The peace talks were over, it would seem. They were short and to the point. Or, rather, they were a point well made.

Saxony had won the war.

I had no idea what was going to happen to Holland. As far as I was aware, Ageres had fled when I charged with the Dutch. I was uncertain if he was even still alive, or where he could be. However, I strongly suspected that King Widukind knew exactly where he was. It wouldn’t be like him to leave a thread like that untied.

A small breath escaped me as we marched back to the army. “Wolf-Kissed, you didn’t strike the final blow, but we won this war thanks to your efforts. I don’t deny it. Woden smiled upon us when he sent you our way, regardless of the circumstances of your departure of King Horrik’s service. I ask of you what you intend to do now?” King Widukind asked me on the way. From where I sat, I could see my mercenary band gathering.

The death of Halstien had been unexpected, and it was keenly felt because I only realized how much I relied on him once he was gone. Still, he was burned with honors. Our casualties were light, all things considered. The Dutch took the brunt of the losses.

To answer his question… “I need to dig up my horde that I buried in Francia. Then I shall sail to Norway. My mother arranged for me to be wed,” I answered after a moment. I would meet this Astrid. Though our union would be brief before I would set sail again.

“After that?” King Widukind prompted, glancing at me. I knew what he wanted. He wanted me to stay. To swear to him. For all his flattery and promises, he still sought to use me. I didn’t blame him for it -- I told as much to Morrigan. I understood his reasonings. However, I had little interest in a future where I remained his right hand and lackey. It was an arrogant thought, I knew. Many men would kill to recieve such an honor that I felt beneath me.

But I was not a normal man. It was not a normal mundane fate that waited for me.

“Will you invade Denmark?” King Widukind continued, “You have found an ally in me for your efforts.” He offered it too easily, but I suppose that was expected.

Did I intend to return to Denmark after this? I still hadn’t slain that wolf. And I was still too young, even if I did have the reputation. With the wealth that I had gained from this war, I could easily hire an army of warriors. Yet…

I was hesitating.

“I don’t know,” I admitted after a moment. “You are a welcome ally when I do return to Denmark. However, I am uncertain if it is wise for me to return yet.” To that, King Widukind’s eyebrows rose a fraction.

“You still intend to sail to Miklagard?” He asked me, and that was something else that weighed heavily on my mind. The war had expanded in scope and responsibility. I thought it would be a handful of months of effort, then we could move on to the supposed greatest city in Midgard.

“I am considering it,” I said, my mind turning over the idea. I gazed out to my army -- just over five hundred men at this point. The number had fluctuated over the course of the war, but it had settled at around that point. A rather large mercenary band. This war had taught me much. Far more than I had expected -- it taught me my strengths, and it made me aware of my weaknesses. I had experienced great growth as many times as I was humbled.

How I was right now… it wasn’t enough. I was deceived many times. I failed to understand my own influence. My army, while brave, would have broken upon Roland and his Paladins like water against stone. My prowess in battle was significant, but the rest of the domains of the gods had fallen to the wayside in the past year and a half. And as Roland proved, I couldn’t even claim to be the greatest warrior.

I needed to be better.

“This is surprising,” King Widukind remarked. “I thought you would return right away. I would offer you a place in my court if I thought you would accept such an offer.” At the very least, he knew that I wouldn’t accept. Despite how much he would like me to. “We never discussed proper terms for your contract. In truth, I feared what you would ask of me. You could have asked for my crown if you wished. But, now that the war is over, and in no small part thanks to you, I ask what you desire as compensation?”

I knew what I wanted. “Ships,” I decided. “Fifty of them. Fighting men to sail them, and each ship loaded with goods to trade.”

King Widukind threw back his head an laughed at my price. Which wasn’t an inconsiderable amount. “Still set on being a trader, then? Ha! People will never believe it, but, aye. I agree to this price.” King Widukind said, offering a forearm for me to clasp. With my good hand, I accepted, sealing the deal.

Secret Quest has been completed: Help Saxony secure its independence.

Objective: Rebuff Francia’s advances into Saxony (Success)

Bonus objective: Defeat a Paladin of Charlemagne in single combat. (Success)

Bonus objective reward: 500 prestige, 250 xp for all Martial abilities

Bonus objective: Defeat Roland (Failed)

Bonus objective: Loot 250 pounds of wealth (Success)

Bonus objective reward: Trait Raider.

Bonus objective: Win (20/15) battles (Success)

Bonus objective reward: One perk.

Quest Reward: Grant Blessing

Grant Blessing: Just as King Charlemagne has his twelve Paladins, the user of this ability can invest in others to empower them beyond what mere mortals can hope to achieve. The blessing is uncontrolled and unguided by the user, nor is it able to be revoked once given. The blessing empowers based on character type; ie, Martial characters will gain physical abilities, or Learning characters will be able to consume or create knowledge at enhanced rates.

Oh. Ohhhhh… Oh.

That... changed everything.