Legends Never Die: Pawns (ch. 60) (Patreon)

Strategos Tatzates was the leader of the Bucellarian Theme of the Roman Empire. Which faced against the Black Sea, making his involvement in my taking of Crete rather unusual. His domain was on the other side of Anatolia, and I saw little merit for him providing any kind of support. It lands weren't affected, or if they were, it wouldn't be a pressing problem. Not like it would be for the Thracian and Cibyyrhaeots Themes, which were just off the coast from Crete.

"The support is minimal," Authun remarked, standing at my side. "Two dozen ships. Nor did he come in person." Authun was right to sound annoyed. It was an insult, though a backhanded one. Just another that I was coming to expect from the Romans. He would be stealing my glory and he didn't even have the decency to be in my presence as he reached into my pocket. Instead, he sent a token force under the command of a ship captain.

It was a rather clear message.

Strategos Tatzates had no expectations that we would succeed and he sent the bare minimum to say that he had participated in the fighting of pirates, yet not enough to suffer any significant setback if we did fail. It was… annoying, but also expected. In a way, it worked to my benefit. With a token force, I would remain in command and we wouldn't be slowed with the Roman trireme ships, which were practically snails in comparison to our longships.

"They will act as our minders. In case we decide to sack Roman cities," I ventured, overlooking the docks that were bustling with activity. It had taken four days for my fleet to gather up, and another two for Strategos Tatzates' paltry fleet to arrive. And that was enough time for Authun to spread his influence. We might have merchant rights, but in the past few days, we found that we were thoroughly unwelcome in Constantinople's markets. "Tatzates seeks to expand his influence with us in some way."

"Michael Lachanodrakon is his rival, is he not?" Hoffer prompted as I took a deep breath of salty air as the mist of early morning hung low to the waters. "Two Jarls can't share a border without getting into a posting contest. By clearing out a pirate nest on his border for him… makes Michael look weak." That was true. I hadn't realized it, but I was surrounded by a number of nobility even if, technically speaking, I wasn't. Their insight into such matters was valuable.

Still, the answer didn't satisfy me. This was… this was more than just biting your thumb at an enemy. There were a thousand and one safer ways you could accomplish the same task. It could just be that he was taking advantage of the situation, but I just didn't believe that answer. Tatzates was seeking influence and glory, even if he had to steal it, and for what? Glory couldn't be in the goal. Nothing was that simple with these Romans.

A horn blast caught my attention -- a signal that my near hundred ships were fully loaded and now we were just waiting to set sail. My gaze slid to the dozen ships and the Romans that manned them -- one of them was rather odd. Mounted on the bow was a dragon's head that was attached to an odd contraption. True Vision turned the world gray, and standing on the bow of the ship was the captain.

He was marked red.

I wanted to sigh as soon as I saw it. It was like these Romans weren't satisfied until they made something simple become overwhelmingly complicated and utterly exhausting. The captain himself was the only one marked red, but I knew that the ones marked with gray would follow his orders. There wasn't a lot they could do with a dozen ships, but in the right moment… they could do some damage.

"Give the Romans a wide berth," I instructed, turning away from the captain that openly looked up at me.

"They intend to betray us?" Hoffer asked, sounding alarmed.

I shrugged as I began to head down to the ships. "Perhaps. It's more likely to me that they'll forget who is an ally and who is a foe during the heat of battle," I replied. An attack of opportunity. That's what it would be. The docks was bustling with activity -- we were abandoning the mercenary quarters entirely. There was no point in leaving anyone behind as Crete would become our base of operations. To that end, we dedicated a handful of ships towards more civilian things, of which Mortigan, Jill, and Astrid were on.

Leaving me alone as I got on the flagship while Hoffer got onto his. Grabbing an offered horn, I blew the signal for the sails to lower and my ship went out first into the misty bay. Heading to the bow, I took a seat and opened my bag of scrolls. There were a good dozen, but it felt dreadfully light as I unfurled a copy to begin reading another scroll about Alexander the Great. This one, however, was a little different and the only reason I was touching was due to Alexios' recommendation.

He had said 'You only get one side of the story if you only listen to one side of the argument.'

It was a critique of Alexander the Great. A rather harsh one as well. More than once, I felt the temptation to simply toss the scroll overboard, but I refrained simply because I knew that Alexios would be disappointed. It at least acknowledged his brilliance as a military commander, but even that was lambasted by criticisms dictating the number of times he survived through dumb luck.

Something that I didn't agree with. Alexander's story was one I knew by heart now -- a son of a god, a peerless military commander that conquered a huge swath of the world. And each time the norns had nearly cut the thread of his life short, he managed to survive until he only died back in his home after his journey had ended. It… sounded a little too familiar to my ears.

Alexander the Great had been blessed by his gods. I was nearly certain of it. I'm sure that the scrolls and histories were missing details, just as those that spoke of my exploits missed or exaggerated plenty.

Yet, the scroll ruthlessly pointed out his shortcomings that were also all too familiar to me. Because I saw the same shortcomings in myself. I was a poor diplomat. I wasn't particularly adept at intrigue either, even if I was getting good and recognizing the plots of others. The scroll tapped into a fear that I had. A fear that drove me all the way to Constantinople.

That the moment I died, everything that I accomplished would shatter to pieces. A nation could not be built around a single man, the scroll claimed. No matter how great. Once they were gone. Their lesser would try to fill the void… and in doing so, the foundations would crumble like sand in the face of a rising tide.

And as we set sail to Crete, due to my own actions and short temper…

That concern loomed ever larger.

…

The island of Crete was a beautiful one, I reflected as we sailed closer. Hoffer took most of the fleet and began to break off as my remainder sailed towards a village that settled on one of the few natural harbors of the island. The waters around the island were a rich blue, and I saw that the island was mostly comprised of rolling hills that were covered in sparse shrubbery. The soil seemed rocky and poor, though I had heard fine things about the vineyards and oils from the island, so perhaps the soil improved inland.

The island itself was an odd hundred and fifty miles across. Making it rather sizable. As much as I would like to patrol the entire shoreline, that was functionally impossible. However, what we could do is break the fleet into small parts and scatter them across one side of the island. I had yet to see a ship that could beat hours in terms of speed, and to my knowledge, the pirates were rather disorganized. They fought amongst each other as much as they did the Romans.

Standing at the docks, I saw a familiar face. Authun was waving at us, flanked by the scouts I sent with him a few days ago. He was to get a lay of the land and verify the information that we had been given. Our approach didn't go unnoticed -- the small town of Chania wasn't large. To my knowledge, the island itself wasn't particularly populated. The town could boast a reported thousand and a half population, and it was by far the biggest of the settlements.

"Well met," I greeted Authun clasping forearms with him as I stepped onto the small dock. The buildings were in the Roman style, and they seemed old and weathered. "Anything worth reporting?" I asked him as my three ships disembarked. All together, we numbered a hundred and sixty counting the scouts. Strange to think not that long ago, I panicked at the thought of leading a hundred men and now it seemed small.

Authun gave me a small curt nod in response. "A number of things. The mayor and port authority work with the pirates handily. To the point that they send missives with the expected incoming and going ships," Authun informed, passing me a parcel of letters. As we made our way into the town, I opened them to see Greek lettering. The others, however, had an odd language that I couldn't recognize -- it looked like squiggles across the page.

Arabic, I reasoned. I hadn't seen or heard the language yet, but I knew it was the preferred language of the Abbasids.

As for the Greek side of things, I saw that the letters were rather incriminating. The game had been going on long enough that they didn't bother to be careful. "How did you manage to get these?" I asked, handing the parcel of letter to another because I knew in all likelihood I would be soaked with blood soon enough. There was no point on ruining the letters.

"I broke into the manor," Authun replied, thinking nothing of it as he pointed the manor out to me. In the small town, it essentially acted as a longhouse. In a straight shot from the docks, with a dirt road leading straight fit it, a large manor built of marble stood tall. It wasn't particularly impressive, but the short buildings that lined the road made it seem more daunting in comparison. "As far as I can tell, Crete might as well belong to the Muslims. The Romans only have any real control over the western most part, with everything east belonging to pirates and Muslims. Or both."

Meaning the situation was about what we anticipated. "Might as well hit the biggest of them, and let the smaller crews scramble," I reasoned. It would also be an opportunity to see where I would be settling down. I needed a good harbor, fertile spil, and some defensive terrain.

Authun nodded, as if he expected nothing else. I felt a number of eyes on us -- citizens that looked… rundown, if I had to call it something. They haven't had an easy living on the island, that much was clear. I imagined that had something to do with sharing it with a bunch of pirates. True Vision, however, marked out a few as enemies. Spies, if I have to guess. Pirates that kept a close eye on the main port of Crete, and it wasn't a coincidence that they stalked away after getting a count on our numbers.

"There is a settlement to the east, some hundred miles down the coast. According to the locals, it's a pirate haven for Romans and Muslims." Authun continued, and he certainly had been busy. "Further beyond it, on the other side of the island is an abbasid settlement. The people here use the term pirates, sellsails, and abbasid sailors interchangeably. I couldn't tell you what they call themselves."

I brought my fingers to my lips and whistled, and with the action, my warriors responded. They broke into three groups of fifty, each one led by a few scouts. The scouts would lead them to the various pirate crews that they knew of in town. "Unaffiliated crews?" I prompted as one of my warriors kicked in a door and the sounds of combat began.

"There are some that camp out on the coast, but not many bother. It's easier to simply come to a town," Authun finished his report, painting a picture for me. I had expected for them to be a little more dispersed. It helped me that they weren't-- it prevented them from needling us, or having to herd them together. However, what it did mean was that we were essentially fighting against two fleets, and as soon as we attacked one, the other was certain to respond.

The pirates would be disorganized and I imagine they would prioritize escape above all else. The Abbasid fleet would be more structured and experienced in fighting together. A surprise attack on the latter sounded more appealing as they would be the greater foe. Yet, defeating them would have the pirate crews scatter to the wind. And that was a dangerous problem on its own.

If Tatzates had sent a full fleet, this wouldn't be an issue.

Swallowing my frustration, I made a decision. "We attack the pirate cove first," I decided, the sounds of combat dying off inside of the buildings and my men began to emerge, bloodied but mostly unharmed. The benefits of wearing armor made themselves apparent. While it was still taking some time for all of my warriors to be outfitted with the riveted mail, the vast majority of them were.

Predictably, the sudden outburst of violence managed to get a reaction from the town. Streaming in, I saw guards gathering up as they prepared their numbers to launch an attack on us. Though, with a town like this, they managed to muster up fifty men. And they were poorly equipped. But, that was no matter. I wasn't here to fight them. After all, regardless of how corrupt they might be, they were lawful citizens of the Roman Empire.

I raised my hand and approached them, "Ho there! I am Siegfried the Wolf Kissed, tasked with the duty of clearing Crete of the pirates that plague it!" I called out to them, reaching to my tunic to produce a letter. One that Ateios gave me, marking my personal mission as one granted to me by the Emperor himself. Turning this into official work on behalf of the empire. A shield for those that would claim that we were raiding Roman territory.

There was a commander at the forefront of the assembled troops -- a younger man with a patchy thin beard, who seemed very surprised that I spoke Greek. He muttered something to one of his warriors, who took off running to the manor. "Hold there! And do not make any sudden movements!" The young man said, doing an admiral job of keeping the panic out of his voice, even if he didn't have the same success with his expression.

As we waited, I looked to Authun. "What can you tell me about this lord mayor?" Beyond that he was hopelessly corrupt.

"That he is undeniable proof that you don't need to smart, talented, or capable to be a lord," came Authun's dry reply. That was less than promising. "This land is a strange one. If he were a normal Jarl in our homeland, someone would slit his throat before the hour was up." Hm. It would be a lie to say that every Jarl was a capable one, but at the very least, you had to know how to wield an axe. And the foolish ones were the one that only knew how to swing an axe.

I saw the same messenger leave the manor to whisper something to the commander. After a short exchange, the commander called out. "Lord Mayor Mimis shall welcome you to his hall, Siegfried! But only yourself and two guards," the commander added, making me hum in consideration. I looked at him with True Vision to see that he was still gray. That was about as a promising sign as we could expect.

Taking Authun and the warrior I gave the letters to with me, we approached the Mass of guards, who in turn escorted us to the manor. There was a point in time that the grandeur would have astounded me, but my tolerance for finery had greatly expanded. Instead, I took in the lavish decorations with a keen eye, marking their grades as we walked by them. And one thing became clear -- Mimis had gotten rich from his dealings with the pirates.

Rich and fat, I soon learned as a set of doors opened for us. Mimis sat on a bench chair, and if I had to describe him… he reminded me of a bear before winter. So fat that he was at the point of non-functioning. A quick glance told me that he was near a half foot shorter than me but he likely weighed twice as much. And, as we entered, I smelled fear coming from him.

"You must be the pagan," He greeted me, that fear leaking into his voice. "Your visit is… most… unexpected." He greeted me, making no attempt to stand. I would call it rude, but I had no wish to see him struggle to even sit up properly.

Instead of replying, I handed over the letter and Mimis took it with his fat fingers that reminded me of sausages. He seemed increasingly distressed the more he read, his hands starting to tremble. He loomed up at me with dark eyes, a nervous sweat building on his brow…

He flinched when I dropped a pile of letters on the table next to him. He instantly understood what they were, even if he had no clue how I got them. "I- Those are-" he managed to stammer out and I took a deep breath.

I had no stomach for intrigue. It simply wasn't my nature, as Morrigan had so aptly pointed out. But I was here for the sake of expanding my horizons. And I didn't just mean the study of maths and architecture.

"I believe," I began, my voice as sharp as any blade, "We can help each other."

My brief stay in Constantinople had taught me one thing.

To use corruption to my benefit.

…

Not entirely happy with this chapter. There could be a rewrite coming up.