Legends Never Die: Invitations You Can't Refuse (ch. 66) (Patreon)

Winter came and went but, honestly, I could barely tell when winter ended and spring began. The winters were very different in this land compared to my homeland -- winter, a true winter, was when it was so cold you dared not step out of your home. When snow piled high outside your door to the point that you were essentially buried inside, waiting for the thaw of spring to leave. It was just one of many differences that I had to get used to in this land.

Another one was that the gods did not visit this land. There was no rainbow bridge of greens and blues that filled the sky at night, marking the gods’ passage. It was something of a relief, to be honest. It explained why Odin, Thor, Frigga, and all the other gods of my homeland were unknown.

The only true way to tell that time had passed was through the settlement -- I had failed to name it in time, and because of that it was named Nordland by the Greeks. Work continued through the winter, and with small steps Nordland was looking more and more like I had envisioned. The projects were still underway, but the hastily constructed buildings of wood were slowly being replaced by houses of stone. A blend of styles, though still distinctly Norse, merely with marble and clay.

I was rather proud of them, if I was being completely honest. They stood at two floors tall, the exterior made of brick while wood served as the support in the corners and a cross section to hold up the second floor. Each floor had a hearth connected by a clay pipe that allowed them to share the heat while the smoke would continue to rise out of what the Greeks called a chimney. A staircase on the outside of the building allowed for two separate entrances. Only a handful had been completed, but with every one that was built, we saved the space of a homestead.

And we would need the space. Michalis had proven his worth several times over. The destruction of a large number of ports in Anatolia had proven to be quite the opportunity for him and us both -- the more merchants he drove to our harbor, the more influence he accrued, which led to merchants seeking him out. It wouldn't last forever. Already, a fair few ports that had been attacked were back up and running, but the disruption and our subsequent establishment meant that we were a peer and competitor rather than a small port.

Our harbor ended up getting expanded. We had six long docks and four short docks now, all lining the beach. All sharing a road that led to the gate that protected the harbor. There was some talk about dredging the sandbank to allow more ships to sail through the small harbor opening, but if we did, it wouldn't be for some time. The palisade that protected Nordland by the harbor was then reinforced with a ditch. The main gate led to a road that swerved around in the relatively flat space before finding a slow incline, before that incline led up to the fortress.

The increase in ship traffic led to a population boom as well. There were a number of refugees in the wake of the Abbasid attacks, and a fair few of them decided to settle in what was now a town. Displaced merchants who were down on their luck also chose to settle in Nordland at Michalis’ urging, bringing further trade connections to the town. In a handful of months, the population had nearly doubled, taking us to nearly six thousand citizens.

The population boom had no signs of slowing down either, and we were considering expanding beyond the valley most of Nordland was nestled in. The location that was being discussed the most was the hill that Astrid and I spent our evenings on as I taught her how to read Greek and Latin so that we could study the glories of great leaders past. It would be a shame to lose the private spot, but the hill was the natural location for a fortress, and we could expand there with little difficulty. In truth, some already were with makeshift housing.

Things were going well. Extremely well. There was the occasional issue -- a probing from the Abbasids or Chares on the mainland. He did what he could to curb our growing influence as a trading port, but for all of his influence, the merchant alliances’ loyalty was to wealth above all. We already had a few merchants that were breaking away from Chares, trading with us despite strict orders not to. Discreetly, of course. But it was a clear sign that his grip on the alliance was slipping. Soon, I would rip it from his grasp entirely.

“We have ships on the horizon,” Astrid informed me, her belly round. A few more months and I would be a father. I tore my gaze away from Nordland, overlooking it from my view of the cliffside, watching it develop as buildings were being constructed, the marketplace thriving, and arguments between locals started and ended in an endless loop. Astrid looked more beautiful than ever, but something about her expression worried me. “Thirty of them. Five are Roman ships… and twenty-five are longships.”

That made me raise an eyebrow. “Longships? Here?” I echoed, taking a moment to mull that information over. That didn't make any sense, I decided. My patrol fleets that served as an early warning system in case the Abbasids mustered their strength against us only patrolled on groups of five. I couldn't see why any of the ships I used as merchant vessels would be grouped together so.

My second thought was Horrik. It was completely unreasonable, as I very much doubted that he would risk sailing so far just to attack me with an army he would know I outnumbered. But it seemed to be the only reasonable explanation considering that I had no other to explain why a fleet of longships would be in the Mediterranean sea.

“Their figureheads are down, so I don't think they have ill intentions,” Astrid answered. Meaning that they did not wish to offend the spirits of this land. Not something that one typically did unless you intended to linger. I turned my attention to the sea, hoping to catch a glimpse of the approaching fleet.

“How full were the ships?” I asked, and Astrid stood next to me.

“Full. They aren't here to trade,” She ventured. That was potentially worrisome. I possessed nearly a hundred ships, but if I fully manned them I would only have twenty full ships. For the most part, my ships were used to transport cargo with around twenty to thirty warriors on each of them. A full ship could hold up to a hundred warriors. Meaning that with twenty-five ships… that was two thousand and five hundred men, which put our numbers near even, but attacking a defensive position…

I caught a glimpse of the approaching fleet as they made a wide arc around the coast of the island to approach. True Vision turned the world gray-

“They're allies,” I realized, looking out at the ships and they were blue. The Roman ships weren't, but the longships were. Each ship held around a hundred men, from what I saw, and out of the hundred nearly eighty of each ship was blue with the rest being gray. Honestly, the sight confused me more than anything else.

“How do you figure that? Did you find a spare army in your pocket?” Astrid asked, as I looked between the ships. There was more blue in these two and a half thousand strangers than there was in my own army. There was even a single ship that was marked blue because everyone on board was considered a trusted friend. And because there was so much blue in the army, when I caught a glimpse of something else, it stood out.

There was a lone, solitary man on one of the ships, working an oar, who was marked with red.

I trusted True Vision. Honestly, I trusted it a great deal more than I did Tell-Spotter. Letting the color fade, I watched them approach. Taking Astrid by the hand, I began heading to the longhouse where we would receive them as guests.

“Looks like we'll need to expand the settlement sooner rather than later,” I mused, entering the longhouse and taking a seat on the throne after sending messengers to bring the representatives of the fleet to me. If they intended to stay, that was another near three thousand people added to the town.

I brought up a quest that was given to me over the winter, when the population boom began.

Quest: Founding a city.

Objectives:

Population: 5,670/25,000

Wealth: 10,687/100,000

Military power: 2,544/10,000

Notable buildings: 1/5

Reward: 1,000 Prestige. Trait: City Builder. 3 Stewardship perks. 1 Diplomacy perk.

City Builder: Locations for cities will be highlighted for the user -- Green for good, yellow for neutral, and red for poor.

When managing or visiting a city owned by user, the city's stats will be revealed and are as follows:

Happiness

Quality of life

Population growth

Wealth

Security

Education

Religion

As well as other detailed information such as imports, exports, notable figures within the city, notable goods found within, spheres of influence, and expected levys.

It was a list of targets for me to reach before the gods would acknowledge Nordland as a city. The goals weren't unattainable, but it would take some time. Years. However, they seemed worth it, I decided -- the Prestige was excellent, the perks would help a great deal, but above all else, I desired the trait. It would be invaluable when I returned to Denmark and found myself king.

I was broken from my thoughts when the doors to the longhouse swung open. Immediately, I sat up when I saw familiar faces. “Michalis? Alexios?” I greeted them, not entirely sure why they were here. They hadn't sent a letter announcing their intentions. I was more curious why Alexios was here, the old man looking around the building with interest. He especially seemed delighted with the wooden floors. Michalos, however, gave a subtle nod of his head to the man that accompanied them.

They were accompanied by a third man and I didn't recognize him at all. However, to True Vision, he shone a brilliant shade of blue. He was as blue as Thorkel, who I knew I could trust with my life. He stood around my height of five ten, a thick black beard and hair with dark green eyes. The moment he saw me, he dropped to a knee in a bow, completely unprompted.

“Lord Wolf-Kissed. It is my highest honor to greet you,” the man began, and there was awe in his voice. “We have sailed a long journey across the known world, following in your footsteps.” He made it sound like he took a pilgrimage -- journeyed to one of our holy sites. “Many thought us mad, but our faith in the gods and you has been rewarded.”

What? I blinked, not entirely sure how to answer. “Take refreshments and be at ease. You honor me with your words. Might I know your name?” I asked, and the man seemed a little embarrassed that he forgot to introduce himself.

“I am Garald Jornson. I hail from Denmark, as do most of those that have followed,” Garald introduced himself, catching my attention. “Legends of your deeds in Francia have already spread far and wide. Chosen by the gods, a son of Thor -- you crushed the Christians, avenged our people and united Norway, before traveling here, to the edge of the world.” I fought to keep my expression neutral as he spoke -- his tone…

The man sounded awed. Like he could hardly believe that I was real.

The man looked at me like he was looking upon a god. He looked how I imagined I would look if Odin appeared before me in the flesh -- happy, but completely overwhelmed.

“You followed me. Sailing down during winter,” I acknowledged. We sailed quickly down the Dnieper River, meaning that for at least a month, these men had sailed during the height of winter. Possibly through the winter. All to reach me here. “Why?”

“To serve you,” Garald stated as if that was a perfectly reasonable explanation. Like it was all the reason that he could possibly need. Astrid shifted next to me, and even Michalis seemed disquieted with the sheer reverence in Garald’s voice. “Despite King Horrik’s efforts and how he has twisted the tales -- we know the truth. You are the chosen of the gods and our purpose is to serve you in Midgard. We beg of you to command us! Let us be your sword and shield.”

That…

That was a lot. A whole lot. For a dangerous second, my mind was completely blank, struggling to form a response to that. Because he wasn't lying. He was being completely honest -- he, and nearly three thousand others, had sailed from Denmark into unknown waters and lands, for no greater reason than the fact that I was here. I had expected my legend would grow over time, but I didn't expect this. This was more than just faith. This was fanaticism. Garald was a zealot, and he’d decided that I was his god.

Thankfully, Jill spoke up and I was barely aware of when she entered the room. “King Horrik has attempted to twist the tales?” She prompted, making Garald look at me with an expression like he had just bitten into something sour. Like he dared not utter the words or I might smite him.

It shook me from my thoughts and I nodded at him. “Speak freely,” I ordered and Garald let out a small breath of relief.

“He has done his best to taint your reputation. He gives credit for your deeds to his son, Grimar, and claims that you murdered him. That when you set sail and passed Alabu by, it was because you were a coward that feared to face him in battle. Some are foolish enough to believe it, but most don’t. When we learned of your destination, a number of Thegns and warriors joined together to follow you. We are men of faith, and there are many in Denmark that believe, but lack the courage to venture into the unknown.” He continued, and I only had more questions.

Still, one thing stood out to me. “Seems like dogs bark the loudest when behind a fence,” I muttered to myself in contempt. I wasn’t surprised that Horrik was trying to taint my reputation. He might even succeed, because it would be years before I returned. Still, it was heartening to hear that his lies were struggling to take root.

Garald nodded with the severity of a man giving a death sentence. “As most of his ilk are. But, now that I have found you, allow me to return to Denmark. There, I can spread word of the truth and bring more of the faithful here to this strange land under your banner.” That was…

Tempting. That was very tempting. However, right now, there were more pressing matters. “We can have that discussion at another time. First, we shall celebrate your arrival. You have come a very long way on faith, and I shall see that it is rewarded. Return to your ships and disembark. We shall arrange for lodging,” I told him, wanting time to recover from everything that he threw at me before I committed any plans.

Garald almost seemed disappointed that he wasn’t going to be sailing back to Denmark right away, but he nodded all the same. “You have our gratitude, Lord Wolf-Kissed.” He said, bowing his head and taking the dismissal. The very moment that he was gone, I drug a hand over my face, stunned at the turn of events.

“Huh. I’m carrying the child of a god,” Astrid remarked teasingly, seemingly delighted in my bafflement. “A grandson of Thor.”

“Please don’t,” I sighed, looking to Michalis and Alexios, almost pleading for an explanation. Michalis inclined his head to me.

“They arrived some three days ago, looking for you. It was pure luck that I happened to be in Constantinople when they arrived, and I managed to prevent them from causing a riot. They were quickly noted to be of your people, and as a result, drew… undue attention,” Michalis began, his lips thinning. “The Empress’s right hand man, Staurakios, summoned us both for an audience, and… well… Empress Irene was there. And I… I was expected to translate. Accurately.” Michalis admitted with a wince and my lips thinned.

I felt a headache forming. I could already imagine what was said. “Their reaction?” I asked, almost fearing it. Until now, I had been generally beneath the notice of Empress Irene, and her son. It was an unusual feeling, but it was the truth. To the high nobility, I was merely a mercenary.

“Their prior belief was that you were a prince fleeing your homeland with your retinue,” Michalis answered. “However… loyalty is difficult to enforce at a distance. Especially such fierce and unprompted loyalty, as I made it clear that you weren’t aware of their arrival. Which… helped less than I think any of us prefer. The imperial court now has questions on why your people believe you to be a demi-god. Or a god outright. The clergy are demanding that you be burned at the stake. Staurakios believes that this is a plot to assemble an army to strike at Constantinople itself…”

Rather unwelcome and severe accusations. However, Michalis was here with an army of fanatics and not an imperial navy.

“Did you manage to convince them otherwise?” I asked, and if so, he had greatly exceeded my expectations of his diplomatic ability. Because that would be a feat worthy of a runestone.

“I convinced them of your intentions. With difficulty. Alexios was called in as a character witness to confirm that you are here for knowledge rather than to raid. Your recent rise in influence… has not endeared you to some,” Michalis added, and that wasn’t a surprise. “It was enough to convince them that they should meet with you and ascertain your intentions themselves. As such, I am here to extend an invitation to you for a celebration to welcome spring by Empress Irene.”

I rubbed my forehead, the headache coming in strong. That would mean leaving Nordland for a brief period, and I was reluctant to do so. I was more worried about that than I was about a potential trap. It would involve what I imagine would be a tedious conversation with the upper nobility, but… all the same, I saw the opportunity for what it was.

I had the imperial court's attention now. Their full attention. War was on the horizon. And, with the zealots, I had an army of five thousand. They would require training and arming, but… that was a considerable force. Especially when they were being led by me. It was a dangerous opportunity, but if I managed to make the right impression… I could earn the favor of the imperial family. Of the Empress and Emperor.

It would be a conversation that decided everything. Including if I would spend the next few years in the Roman Empire, or if I would cut my losses.

I settled into my throne, my expression set in a fierce scowl. “Then I shall accept this invitation.”

No matter what, I swore… the Romans would learn that they could not tread on me.