Legends Never Die: Staying One's Hand (ch. 65) (Patreon)

I couldn't help it. I was a little dumbfounded. “They retreated?” I asked, looking at Thorkel, covered in drying blood. I had rushed over, anticipating a fierce battle to contest the landing, only to see the ships that we were meant to be fighting sailing down the coast. “Or are they looking for another place to land? Were you discovered?” This was… odd. In the end, the Abbasids outnumbered us ten to one. The fact of the matter was that we needed clever tricks to bring their numbers down to the point we could fight them.

I suppose sending an army of twenty thousand strong in a full retreat was an incredible feat, but it was more dumbfounding than impressive.

“Don't think so. The second in command must have a lot sharper of a nose than the first,” Thorkel reasoned with a small shrug of his shoulders. “Looks like they could be sailing up to Chania, though.”

“Baiting us into an attack?” I wondered, and if so, it was clever. Dangerously clever. The Abbasids could afford to split their army up into smaller pieces. But if I committed to the defense of Chania, I would be forced to abandon my fort. An army of ten thousand- an army of five thousand could take Chania with ease. While we defended the town, the Abbadids could sweep around and take our settlement.

And, perhaps, that would have been a difficult choice for me to face if the Romans had anything but contempt for me.

“Our orders are to build a fort and hold it. Defending Chania wasn't in the contract,” I voiced. The town would be sacked. Rather viciously, I would imagine after the army's stinging defeat here. It would be bothersome if they decided to attack overland with a full army. But, in the very worst case scenario, we could simply pack up our people and leave the settlement behind. Less than ideal, but I wasn't willing to have my people die in a pointless battle over land that I wouldn't hold for more than a few years.

Thorkel appraised me for a moment before he nodded, patting me on the back. “Now you're thinking like a mercenary. Things got blurry in Francia… but you'll never get a thank you or a bonus for going above and beyond what the contract says.” I suppose that's true. I got too invested in Francia. Charlemagne and his Paladins had felt like an existential threat.

I was almost tempted to still ride out to Chania's defense. Leaving the town to die was a cold decision that I hadn't thought I was capable of. But… These were not my people. This was not my land…

This was not my problem.

“Let's head back and clean up the harbor. I suspect we'll be needing it in the near future,” I suspected, looking away from the sailing ships. The commander of them was someone I would have to keep an eye on. He was too clever by half, and now he possessed a hundred ships and a navy twenty thousand strong. I hoped that the Romans would pay me to deal with him, but until then… I wouldn't be lifting a finger.

…

Chania was sacked every bit as brutally as I had anticipated the very same night that I pulled back my army. What I hadn't anticipated was that, over the course of weeks, the Abbasid commander would strike out at Anatolia and Greece. The fact that the fleet and army was called a ‘pirate’ fleet had led me to believe that they would be conservative in their actions. They turned out to be anything but. Towns and villages throughout the Roman Empire on this side of the Black Sea were put to the torch.

It wasn't so much raiding as it was razing. I had seen the damage done myself -- burnt out buildings, fields laid to waste, the people of villages either in chains or dead in their homes. Along the coast there was a wake of devastation, equal to anything that I saw in Francia. The towns that were razed were more interesting, simply because they had been taken fast. Perhaps not as fast as I could have taken them, but towns that could have held out for years fell within a few weeks. Some only lasted days.

It was enough to clue me in that something was going on behind the scenes. Either the Abbasids had a liberal amount of spies scattered throughout Rome who had been waiting for this, or it was the work of someone else. I had no evidence to support the claim, but based on what I knew, I was ready to point a finger at Strategos Tatzates. Strategos Lachanodrakon’s lands took most of the damage. Given what I knew about their rivalry… I could very easily see Strategos Tatzates having spies in Strategos Lachanodrakon’s lands, and then handing the Abbasids the key to the gates for no other benefit than it made his rival look bad.

And look bad he did. News came in a trickle over the course of weeks, but Strategos Lachanodrakon’s inability to contain the threat had earned him a great deal of ire from the crown. There were rumors circulating that he could be facing execution for his failures. And, more than anything else, that stayed my hand. I didn't at all care for Strategos Lachanodrakon, even if I found myself caring even less for Strategos Tatzates with his short sighted actions. I suspected my beliefs wouldn't be a secret forever, but the man hadn't done me any favors.

Though, in a fit of irony, the Abbasids had.

“The refugees have settled in. Tensions are still high, but Morrigan says that we don't have to worry about a rebellion for now,” Jill informed, wearing a small satisfied smile.

“Our guest is behaving then?” I asked, nursing a cup of mead as I leaned back into my throne. Around the longhouse were signs that Yule was here and, off in the distance, I could hear the sounds of celebration. My gaze flickered to Jill to see her satisfied smile grow a fraction and I had my answer.

Lord Mimir had managed to escape Chania with his retinue, and he came to the one place he viewed as safe on the island.

Our settlement.

In truth, when I saw the man for the first time… I had wanted to kill him. He was disgusting -- he’d abandoned his own people to save his skin, fleeing before the attack on Chania had even begun based on the timing. But, I stayed my hand. The coward lord did have his uses. Or, his noble seal did, and as long as he was with us, we essentially had full access to it.

He wasn't the only one to make their way to our settlement. Of the odd thousand people that had once resided in Chania, five hundred of them had trickled into the settlement. Sometimes in large groups, other times one by one. In function, Chania was being abandoned entirely. They’d lost a number of people, the town had been razed, and now the few that could have rebuilt it had decided that it wasn't worth the effort.

On paper, the citizens were ruled by Lord Mimir. In practice, they were ruled by me.

It brought our burgeoning settlement to a town partially overnight -- two thousand Norsemen, five hundred Greeks, three hundred pirates, and now four hundred Abbasid thralls that were left of the invading army. Bringing the population to around three thousand and five hundred at any given moment.

“The tensions are easing thanks to Yule. There are plenty that are getting worked up about a pagan holiday, but most are treating it as an occasion to drink and make merry,” Jill said, not answering my question. “The influx in trade has helped things out immensely. Though, I am worried about how it might appear to the Romans.”

“They couldn't protect their own ports and even they aren't foolish enough to believe that we could defeat an army ten times our number alone,” I reasoned. The Emperor, or more likely, his mother, had sent an agent to inspect the settlement. He hadn't said as much, but his presence had indicated that they were exploring the possibility that we had betrayed them. Those fears were put to rest when they saw signs of battle, the captured ships, and the notable prisoners. One of which was an old man that had been the leader of the fleet. He’d taken an arrow to the eye, but in a twist, it was the same eye that he had already been missing.

I sent the agent off with a simple reasoning for why the Abbadids broke off their attack early.

‘They sought softer prey.’

Let the imperial court chew on that, I thought, taking another sip of my mead before Jill broke me out of my thoughts with a slight smack on the arm. “You could stand to be a little politer,” she pointed out and I fought off a scowl. She wasn't wrong, but if they wanted me to be polite then they should be so first. “It's an issue for us as well. The crown was meant to be paying for the building supplies, but timber and stone have shot up in price. Building a fort is no small expense, but it might seem like an unimportant one when a half dozen towns are rubble.”

“And with war on the horizon,” I agreed. The veneer was so thin that it might as well not exist, but it was there. I expected the attacks to be the onset of war outright, but the crown seemed to be building up its army slowly. I imagine the Abbasids would be doing the same. Both were likely waiting for winter to end before the two empires clashed. “But I never held out hope that the crown would meet their obligations. We'll just build it ourselves. We're in a position to, at the moment.”

As one would expect, with most of the ports being burned down, trade in the area took a hit. The natural trading hubs couldn't be used, and by default, we became the only natural option. I encouraged that position by cutting normal tariffs in half -- it would beggar a normal town, but we were a budding one. It didn't take long for word to spread and soon enough, ships began to sail into the harbor to sell and buy goods. It was just the start, but I was hoping to solidify our position before Chares could poison the well.

Michalis further smoothed things along, using the influence he had gathered to point troubled merchants in my direction. And, soon, that influence would breed and grow. We were working in a hurry as both war and recovery loomed on the horizon but I resolved myself -- Chares would be destroyed before the war started. I wouldn't tolerate an enemy at my back.

Jill hummed, “It looks bad on the crown if they can't accomplish this much, but I suppose you're right.” She acknowledged before she tilted her head at me. “You should shave your beard.”

I looked at her with a betrayed look, leaning away from her just in case she had a razor in hand. She rolled her eyes at my protests, “I'm a man. I have to have a beard.” It had even started to really grow in as of late. “Not having a beard is a man's shame.” Even having scratchy fuzz on your cheeks was better than not having a beard at all.

“It'll hide your scar,” Jill said, pointing at her neck. “People will have to ask why you're the Wolf-Kissed.” I hated that she had a point. A full length beard would hide the scar, but it almost seemed worth it. Jill seemed to realize that she was losing me because she swiftly continued, “Keep it short and shave your neck, then. You'll get to keep your manly beard and show off your namesake.”

That would- I opened my mouth before I narrowed my eyes, “Did you just diplomacy me?” I accused, making Jill's eyes dance with amusement. I was going to take that as a yes. A hand went to my beard, stroking it consideringly. I suppose I could try it out for a time to see how it looked. Jill's smile grew when she knew she had me, and I'm pretty sure I would be more annoyed if it wasn't for her blessing.

“Right now, there isn't much else that requires our attention,” Jill smoothly moved on from the topic. “We have to wait and see what the fleet does.”

I grunted at that. Chania had been left to rot, with the Abbasids returning to their own settlement. However, they periodically sent portions of their fleet out to continuously raid Rome. A dozen ships here and there, large enough that I didn't feel comfortable sailing out to pick them off as it would leave our position too exposed. My ships were faster, so I had little to fear from them, but I could feel the Abbasids probing for weakness. They wouldn't find any, but their presence was alarming.

“Domestically…” Jill trailed off, her tone light and I looked at her, expecting her to continue. She seemed to chew on what she had to say for a long moment before she spat it out, “Astrid. She hasn't been well.” Instantly, every muscle tensed and I nearly jumped out of my seat, before Jill placed a calming hand on my wrist. “She's not ill. Well, no more ill than one would expect from a pregnant woman, but… she's been listless. Before, she trained to fill her days, and now she can't. And she's well aware that she won't likely be part of the coming war.”

I relaxed, slowly. “What do you have in mind?” I asked her, and Jill frowned ever so slightly.

“I'm not entirely sure,” she admitted. “I thought she would enjoy being given a command position, but…” she trailed off. The men wouldn't care for being led by a pregnant woman, my wife or not. And I would never accept her being on the battlefield when she carried my child. “I don't know. And I don't think I should do anything. Hoffer has been… less than pleased with my responsibilities,” Jill remarked lightly.

I nodded shallowly, understanding her point. Hoffer feared that I favored Jill more than I did Astrid, and even if I did, he wouldn't voice any of his complaints. His family had already gained a crown. However, his complaints were more than political in nature. He was an older brother. A good one, I would think. If I had been in his position… I very likely would have done more than scowl.

Jill handled Diplomacy. Morrigan handled Intrigue. I handled Martial, Learning, and Stewardship. I suppose I could understand why Astrid felt out of place when she could no longer be a warrior on the battlefield.

“I have something,” I said. In the end, out of everyone, Astrid was the most like me. She struggled with the etiquette of court, vastly preferring to speak her mind, and the subtlety of intrigue was more annoying than fulfilling. Astrid was at her best when there was a clear goal and an enemy and she could march forward to reach them. The only difference between us was that I had found learning to occupy my time.

Jill seemed faintly relieved as I emptied my cup and set it to the side. Leaning over, my lips brushed her cheek, and even with the chaste kiss, Jill flushed. It was actually something of a reassurance. Jill was… strong, I suppose the easiest way to say it. But, it was good to see that underneath that strength, Jill still had shades of that shy girl that ran after giving me a shield.

Stepping out of the Longhouse, my feet carried me down the path. The wall has been coming together nicely once we began to freely scavenge what was left of Chania. Thick stone was being layered up, a rough gate forming -- a trench would be dug in front of the wall to make it a little more difficult for the attackers, but that would come later. I felt the sharp looks from the captured Abbasids, who now took the place of the pirates when it came to back breaking labor.

I ignored them as my gaze swept over the settlement. More buildings had been put up with salvaged wood from the Abbasid ships. We kept a few for transport, because they were much larger than our ships even if they were much slower. And, as I looked out at the settlement, I used my new gift from the gods for protecting my settlement with no real damage to speak of.

Structural Analysis

With a single glance, you can fully understand the history of an object or building. The materials that it is made of, its history… where it is strong, and where it is weak.

It had a unique interaction with Grading, I learned, because when I used Structural Analysis, my vision became filled with information. The buildings were graded, as was the road -- the flaws of their construction were highlighted in my mind, where the heat escaped them with a draft or where one part of the building would accumulate more damage in comparison to the rest.

The combination worked well with Simulation, because I could see not only how well the settlement would hold up in more extreme circumstances, I saw exactly where the shortcomings were. Each building's Grade going up or down depending on the challenges that they faced. It was a useful combination. A very useful one. It would be more useful back home when it came to our harsh winters in comparison to this rather mild one.

Even now, while there was a chill in the air, I could walk around without a shirt on if I wished, much less requiring a cloak to keep warm.

The settlement wasn't what I wanted yet, but we were laying the foundations for it now. Soon, stone would be shipped over from Anatolia, and we could begin building the true settlement that I had envisioned. My feet carried me through it, mentally noting the weaknesses of the buildings around me. Most would be torn down and moved when construction began, but it was useful information all the same.

Despite the festivities, I knew where I could find Astrid. The settlement was packed with people -- the former pirates enjoying a break alongside my warriors. Most of their numbers had been culled during the Abbasid attack. And, for one reason or another, the pirates seemed to hate the Abbasids more than they did us even if we were the one that put them in that position. I suppose they thought it had been mere chance that the Abbasids attacked when we allowed the pirates their freedom.

A useful misunderstanding as it put the two groups at odds rather than joining forces against us.

The settlement spread out between the cliffs and hills, and already, there were talks about securing another hill for the sake of protection. I wasn't sure if anything would actually come of it yet because our population would need to continue to grow, but Astrid had found a place where she liked to linger.

I made my way up the hill, approaching what looked to be one of the only trees on the island. A proud oak tree that had been planted near the cliff's edge, a straight drop down to the ocean below. I found Astrid sitting on a pile of stacked stones, looking out into the distance towards Anatolia. She wore a red dress lined with white fur, a hand resting on her stomach. She was showing even more now. In five short months, I would be a father.

She didn't miss my approach, glancing my way, and I offered a small smile, “Enjoying the view?” I asked, and I heard her snort in amusement.

“Keeping watch,” she corrected. “It's about the only thing I can do these days.” She added with a small shrug of her shoulders. I suppose that made more sense. Astrid didn't strike me as the type to enjoy a view for the sake of it.

I reached her and took a seat next to her, looking out at the ocean. It was a good view, if nothing else. Then, reaching into my belt, I passed her a scroll. Astrid cooked an eyebrow at it before unraveling it. “What's this?” She asked, looking at the Greek lettering and I gave her a thin smile.

“It's an account of Hannibal,” I said, tapping the scroll. “One of the greatest generals in history, as far as I can tell. A thousand years ago, when Rome was a fledgling republic, they were rivals with an empire known as Carthage. Hannibal was one of the Carthaginian generals, and he alone nearly brought Rome to its knees. He struck such fear into the Romans, his victories so certain, that the Roman generals refused to fight him on the field. Simply harassing him as they chased him throughout their kingdom, with Hannibal inflicting horrific damage all the while.”

I had her interest, Astrid turning her attention to the page with renewed interest, as if she were attempting to understand the words even if she didn't read the language. Astrid favored martial pursuits. And, perhaps, I could tempt her into something else… but that would be tantamount to admitting that she would have to abandon her martial skills. She was a fine fighter. But…

“The Romans kept records of their defeats?” Astrid asked, sounding amused.

“So great was Hannibal that their victory over him -- not due to clever tricks on their end, but the lack of support on Hannibals from his nation, was worth engraving in their history,” I answered. “You're the only one that would share my interest in this history. Jill doesn't care for war, and Morrigan doesn't care at all. I would like us to learn together -- the tactics used by the great generals of old, so we may learn from their victories and their defeats.”

A general. What I needed from Astrid was for her to become a general. One that could stand shoulder to shoulder with me and command. Thorkel was a good leader, but he wasn't a general. Neither was Olek or Hoffer.

I could see that Astrid knew what I was doing, but she seemed rather pleased with it. A soft smile touched her lips before she rested her head on my shoulder. “It'd be easier if I could read this myself, but until then, you're stuck reading to me.” She remarked, getting herself comfortable.

And with a soft smile of my own, I began.