Legends Never Die: Quieter Times (ch. 137)

Jill smiled as she heard the squeals of children's laughter echo through the halls of the palace, looking up from another letter in a pile thick enough to serve as armor just in time to see Magnus and the others burst into her office and rush to shut the door behind them. 

“Raaahh- oof!” Siegfried roared, his face hidden by the maw of his wolf mantle, his arms raised up and covered by the claws before he was thwarted by the door slamming shut in his face. The children screeched when it thundered, as if Siegfried was really trying to enter. It was good enough to send his children scurrying like frightened rats, albeit ones with wide smiles on their faces. 

“Playing, are we?” Jill asked, looking at her son, making all of the children look at her with wide eyes. She could see the realization that they’d escaped one monster only to serve themselves up to another. A much scarier monster, in her estimation. “Funny. I thought you had lessons with Alexios.” 

Alexios, Siegfried's former tutor, became the tutor of the family. He was an educated man, and one who hungered to further his education even as he enlightened others. He worked closely with Siegfried on a number of projects, mostly concerning the universities being built in the capital and on Gotland, an island off the coast of Sweden. However, due to Siegfried's attention being in ever increasingly high demand, Alexios typically had complete oversight of these projects. 

In the time between, he taught their children. Some with more success than others. 

“Er,” Magnus uttered, visibly swallowing his nervousness. Despite the stern look she wore, Jill was silently smiling. Magnus was growing up too fast, it felt like. Another year had passed entirely too quickly, leaving the young boy seven years old. The same as his sisters, Scáthach and Aífe. Meanwhile, Bjorn and Radahn trodded along in his and Ragnar's shadows, determined to be like their big brothers. Even when they got themselves into trouble. 

“Lessons were canceled,” Scáthach swiftly replied, her golden eyes meeting Jill's with supreme confidence. 

Morrigan thought that the ability to lie was an important life skill, and one to master early. Something that caused the girls to get into no end of trouble. 

Jill smiled, and Scáthach flinched, knowing that she had effortlessly seen through her lie. But, before she could say anything more, a false wall swung open to reveal Siegfried. “Raahhh! I'm going to get you! I'm going to eat you up!” He roared, causing the children to scurry. 

Well, most of them. Bjorn stared up at his father slack-jawed, unable to comprehend how he managed to enter the room, and the result was that he was nearly left behind when the children dashed out of her office in a mad scramble. He would have been, if Radahn hadn't doubled back to grab his hand and pull him away to flee for their lives.

It was only then that Jill allowed herself a laugh, relaxing in her seat while Siegfried pushed the wolf head back to where it normally sat on his shoulder. He really shouldn’t wear his cloak in such a way, regardless of how much the children enjoyed being chased by a ‘monster.’ There were already rumors swirling that the cloak gave him the power of a wolf- either that, or the bite he received on his neck was the source of his otherworldly powers. 

Already, detractors were spreading rumors, trying to chip at his impervious reputation. Mostly to see if they could -- Siegfried was popular and well-liked, but that didn’t mean by everyone. So, they would say what they could and hope the tale spread that Siegfried wasn’t chosen by the gods, but gained his strength through otherworldly magics. Or that the pelt that he wore was a trick worthy of Loki’s child, as Siegfried was actually the wolf Fenrir in disguise. Some even said that he bite he received gave him the power of a wolf and he claimed the pelt along with the other magical power from his sire. 

They were pointlessly petty stories, but they could become more if he kept feeding them. 

“A meeting was canceled,” Siegfried explained himself with a rueful smile. “I thought I would take the chance to play with them while I could.” 

He looked tired. He called it a Boon from the gods, the gift that allowed him to need little sleep, but he still needed some. And with the schedule that they kept, even he was struggling to find enough hours in the day to accomplish everything. And that was with them -- she, Astrid, Jasmine, and Morrigan helping to deal with the overflow of meetings, deals, and talks about future conversations. 

Siegfried had always seemed larger than life to her. But he was spreading himself thin these days, and she worried that he was going to falter somewhere due to sheer exhaustion. 

“A meeting with whom?” She asked as Siegfried glided towards her with a touch too much grace, and almost out of habit, she used her Blessing upon him. Simply to remind herself that it wasn't merely her imagination. 

Diplomacy: 25 *(+40)

Martial: 92

Stewardship: 55

Intrigue: 19

Learning: 81

Prowess: 100

*Modifier applied due to reputation bonus. 

Siegfried had been the first she used her Blessing on, and in comparison everyone else simply fell short. The highest ‘stat’ that Jill had seen beyond Siegfried's Prowess stat had been Morrigan’s, which had a similar modifier. Most people had a stat that was in the tens, usually on the lower end of them. They also had several stats that were in the single digits. Not Seigfried. Even his lowest stat was well above the average. 

It was somewhat unnerving at times. And in those times, she had to remember how strongly Siegfried denied having a divine heritage. 

He stood behind her and his hands fell onto her shoulders, and she couldn't quite contain the low groan when his hands found a budding knot of tension between her shoulders. “Jarl Hastings,” Siegfried answered and it was only because she was relishing the massage that she didn't jump out of her seat. 

“He canceled?” She stressed, clenching her jaw. 

“Essentially. The richness of the Mediterranean disagreed with his stomach, according to his messenger,” Siegfried replied, offering a dismissive snort. He didn't believe that any more than she did. 

Jarl Hastings wasn't particularly important in the grand scheme of things. He was simply a jarl, one among many, who had been uplifted by their hand from obscurity. And now, a year after the conquest was complete, he along with so many others, had decided to test Siegfried's grip on them and their lands. 

It wasn't a rebellion or anything of the sort. It was simply the common politics of the land. Most of the jarls and thegns that they had folded into their empire had never answered to anyone before, so they were adjusting. What they did have before were equals, and they interacted with those with slights, delays, and bribes. Up until this point, their positions were too new and too uncertain for them to take risks. That fear, rather unfortunately, had worn off. 

Now they were dealing with things like this -- overgrown children testing boundaries to learn what would earn them a stern word, a slap on the wrist, or a proper thrashing. 

“We should slip something in his food and show him what a truly upset stomach feels like,” Jill muttered darkly, earning a laugh from her husband. 

“You've been spending too much time with Morrigan,” he laughed. He wasn't wrong. There was a great deal of overlap between diplomacy and intrigue. Knowing someone's secrets and motivations made talks with them go much smoother than they otherwise might. 

“I've come around to her way of doing things,” Jill replied, considering the merits of the course. These kinds of growing pains were expected well in advance, but that didn’t mean they were any less irritating to deal with. Simply because every instance required a careful and deliberate touch. 

They were establishing precedence for their empire. Precedence that would last for years, decades, if not centuries to come because these interactions would establish the relationship between the Allvaldr to Kings to Jarls to Thegns. They had to be firm, but magnanimous. Else some would claw at the leashes around their necks, which would require a much firmer hand than anyone would prefer, which would have its own consequences. 

Yet, they could not endure an endless tirade of minor slights, else the crown would be worthless. 

With her moment of deliberation over, she wrote a letter to Morrigan asking her to slip a mild poison into the Jarl's next meal. 

“You have been spending too much time with Morrigan,” Siegfried repeated. 

“Most men would be happy that their wives got along so famously," Jill remarked with a slight smirk. 

“Most men don't have wives as scary as you and her are,” Siegfried retorted, and that got a light laugh out of her. It was a nice moment. A rare moment when they could just be alone without a thousand different things pulling them one way or another, among them their children. 

She reached up to his hands on her shoulders, “Will we be ready?” 

It wasn't a question of what she meant. 

“We will be,” Siegfried replied, his tone confident. “It's an important step, and one that we prepared for. The Council is for the sake of appearances. We have the script written, and they will follow it.” There was a certain flatness in his voice, a warning to those that would risk sabotaging such a crucial moment for the empire. 

That was the First Great Council. Siegfried had been inspired by what they had been forced to deal with in Rome, when they had been forced to host the Christian religious debate. Farce that it was. As far as the Christian world was concerned, there had been a debate, but the truth of it was that much of the talks were settled long in advance with the conclusion all but written before the first word was spoken. 

The First Council was meeting with Law-Speakers from across the empire. In any given land, there were two authorities on punishments for crime -- the Thegn or Jarl, or the Law-Speaker. They could defer to one another as needed, as some Jarls would find condemning a criminal costly in terms of politics, while a Law-Speaker could defer to a Jarl as they were the authority of the land and a Law-Speaker could not overrule nobility. Not without consequence, at least. 

Siegfried's first ambition was to bind his kingdoms together with laws by establishing standard practices out of a tangled, contradicting mess of local practices. It wasn't easy. It took the better part of a year and a half just to reach a point where they felt like they could have the Council give the codex of laws the legitimacy needed to implement them across the empire. And, even then, Jill knew to expect resistance from people who were simply too set in their ways and didn't care for what the lawful authorities had to say about anything. 

The codex was only a little less challenging than implementing a tax system. 

People simply didn't care about fairness. They cared about change and inconvenience. 

“Father!” Jill heard Magnus shout down the hall, sounding annoyed. “You're supposed to chase us!” 

Jill and Siegfried shared a laugh before he leaned down, pressing his lips to her forehead, before he once more adorned his cloak and left the room. He let out a ferocious roar that had the children giggling even as they ran away. Jill closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of their footsteps and laughter retreating and only when the halls were silent once more did she let out a quiet sigh that betrayed her own exhaustion. 

Yet all the same, she stood and made sure to grab the letter to deliver to Morrigan before leaving her office. Her guards fell in step behind her, and she had long since gotten used to the sound of chainmail jostling with every step. They walked through the lavishly decorated halls of the palace, equal to anything that she had seen in Rome -- Siegfried had been possessed by the urge to outmatch what he saw in Constantinople, and he was making great strides towards doing so. 

As she walked, her mind was swirling with tasks that still needed to be completed. A thousand and one things, most of which she knew she would delegate to her staff, leaving her with the most important ones. But those matters still tugged at her attention, making her wish that she had a Blessing similar to Morrigan’s. It let her keep an eye on a dozen different things all at once, which was exactly what Jill needed. 

Instead, what she had was… arguably more useful, it just meant that she had to delegate important responsibilities. 

A door was opened for her, and she entered a meeting room that was filled with those that worked under her -- they were the diplomatic arm of the Empire. She had scouted them relentlessly since the conquest began, and continued to do so after it ended. Every single one of them had a Diplomacy stat between thirty to forty. Which, given her position as Chancellor, augmented her own abilities according to the Blessing. 

No sooner than she entered did Jill find herself besieged by reports, all of them demanding her full attention, “Your Majesty,” a young man began, bowing his head even as he rose from the table. Arvid was amongst the newer arrivals to her court, but he was swiftly becoming one of her favorites. Something that was reinforced when he presented a scroll to her guard, who inspected it, before passing it to her. 

In neat handwriting, she saw that it was the current list of disasters in the making. 

“Where are we on Khagan Manasseh?” Jill questioned, taking an offered seat as she brought order to the chaos. “Have we received a reply?” 

“Not yet, your majesty, but one is on its way. The Ravens carry word that they are amicable to the Allvaldr's will,” Arvid replied. 

It was a longstanding negotiation that Jill had been working on. The Khagan of the Magyars, Manasseh, had arrived at their court last year in the aftermath of the Frankish and Roman conquest of his kingdom. Most of his people had bent the knee, others were scattered to the four winds, but Manasseh still commanded a sizable host some fifteen thousand strong -- most of which, sadly, were women, children, and other noncombatants.

He had been quite displeased to learn that Siegfried had no intention of declaring war on Charlemagne. He spent a month in their court attempting to change his mind until Siegfried offered a different path -- resettlement in other lands on the periphery of their border, then when the migration of hot blooded young men left for Hoffer's kingdom, he could find the allies he sought. It hadn't been what he wanted, and he went on at length describing her husband's prowess in battle and seemed genuinely confused why he would sheath his blade, even for a few short years. 

That migration had already arrived, and the last Jill had heard, they had taken Kiev and were working their way to retaking parts of Bulgaria while fending off incursions from the Khazars. They had the raw numbers for it -- five thousand Bulgarians, in addition to whatever local resistance that joins them. The better part of fifteen thousand Norsemen eager to make their fortune, along with a force of three thousand Magyar horsemen. Siegfried had doubts that Bulgaria would be fully liberated, but Krum was a clever man and he would know that as well. 

She also knew that he and her husband spoke long into the night about points of natural fortification to retake and to hold, rather than overexpanding and losing everything. 

“I maintain my doubts about this policy,” Jóarr, another one of her favored counselors, said. “Allies of today can be the enemies of tomorrow. Supporting the horselords and trusting them to guard the east for us… there will come a day that they look to our riches and step through the door that they once guarded.” 

Siegfried had specific points that he didn't wish to expand beyond. The south-east border, from Saxony to Finland, was his greatest concern. He expanded deliberately to natural chokepoints and defensive terrain and Jill doubted that Siegfried would ever venture beyond them. However, Siegfried also sought to control the peoples beyond their borders to ensure that they didn't test them. 

The answer he settled on was to create friendly vassal kingdoms around the Empire. Such as with Krum and the Bulgarians. And now Manasseh and the Magyars, who Siegfried was convincing to take residence in the vast flatlands to the east in exchange for a military alliance and trade concessions. The hope was that should a threat ever come for the Empire, that threat would first have to go through their allies -- and even if they failed to stop the threat, they would buy the time needed for them to muster their own defenses. 

“Which is why we will not empower a single tribe or kingdom beyond our borders,” Jill replied. “We will empower many. We will be a common friend amongst them, but the rest will be enemies.” It would be a delicate balance, and not one that could be maintained indefinitely but so long as the Empire was never weak enough that it couldn't exert control beyond its borders, then it was a manageable concern.

The Empire would be too looming of a foe for the petty kingdoms to earnestly attempt to conquer, so they would look to expand through their weaker neighbors. Neighbors that they could support or target with a bribe, diplomatic ties, or intrigue. And, should one of their successors choose to expand beyond Siegfried's chosen border? Then they would ensure that the enemy had no allies to call upon for aid. 

“The Magyars shall be one of many of the tribes we bring into our influence. All the more so as the Khazars remain a threat,” Jill continued. The Khazars were both a threat and not. Francia and a restored Rome were by far the most pressing concern, but the Khazars were a more distant and also more present threat to the east. They controlled a vast stretch of flatlands, bordering the Black Sea, as semi-nomadic horselords. 

Diplomatic relations were frosty at the moment due to the Romans having great sway at the Khagan's court from their attempts to foster an ally against the Abbasids. That influence posed a risk as the Khazars could be convinced to attack at Rome's behest with a large enough bribe. To that end, their current policy was to stir up distress and rebellion within the tribes, replace those who were influenced by the Romans with those that fell under their own influence, or to fracture the Khazars into a less dangerous entity. 

“It is not the idea that I have issue with, Your Majesty. It is the execution -- these lesser tribes and petty kingdoms should swear themselves to us outright. They should become our vassals and pay homage to your husband.” Jóarr countered with a respectful bow of his head. 

It was a delicate balance to be had. She saw how Siegfried struggled to find those that would be honest with him, even when the truth was unpleasant, like when he was being a thick headed idiot. It was because he was great. A god that walked the realm, as most people saw him. She suffered a similar issue due to being his wife, and it was an issue that was compounded because she was a woman. 

“Oaths of homage come with expectations,” Jill replied. “Expectations that we will take up arms for their sake when they are threatened, be it by conquerors or raiders. My husband has his eyes set on the wars to come, and he has no time to be distracted by the petty squabbles of those outside of our border. Not unless they cross it.” It was a policy that would last for some time. Decades, at the least. Jill was uncertain if it would change in Siegfried's lifetime. By that time, she imagined that the situation outside the Empire’s borders would look quite different. 

For every action, there was a reaction. Siegfried had united the Norse people, forging an empire from hundreds of scattered tribes, and built cities that rapidly grew into centers of trade and diplomacy. People were drawn to such things, even if they didn't wish to bend the knee. Jill expected that in the next few decades, the various scattered tribes would consolidate around the wealth that came in and out of the Empire through trade. That consolidation meant the securing of territory and means of production of trade goods and food. From there, petty kings would rise and fall by their hand as they chose who would end up at the top of the pile. 

Jóarr nodded, accepting the reply for what it was before he cleared his throat, “If the Magyars accept, then they will need a counter weight.” 

And so began the deliberation. Many ideas were discussed, but most were tossed out, reworked, rediscussed, and then usually thrown out again. The terrain to the east was uniquely sorted to horse-bound nomads, so any infantry based army would find itself at a unique disadvantage. Though, that could be supplemented by drafting tactics to counter mounted archers and the favored feigned retreat maneuver. 

That would be a task for the university that Siegfried was building. His adoration for places of learning had it's benefits -- it concentrated learned and intelligent people into one place, and that made it very convenient to ask them a question. The university itself was another subject that was being discussed as it was going through its own growing pains. 

Egos clashing, people hating the way someone else did things even if they got the same result. As well as a more interesting and less frustrating phenomenon of the masters of crafts awarding their apprenticeship with a seal of approval, then taking up residence in the university to teach more students rather than a traditional apprenticeship. It was interesting, but more so because those that received the stamp of approval were continuing to work with their masters instead of establishing their own practices. 

One swordsmith had established a company and claimed that he would only take on smiths that had gone to the university. It wasn't a bad thing. It was simply something that they needed to keep an eye on. 

Though, it was only one of the many such things. And every single one of them were brought up, discussed, and then tabled with a course of action that would either resolve it or lead to it being resolved, hopefully, at another meeting. 

The hours went by both agonizingly slowly and entirely too fast, leaving Jill feeling like they’d barely made a dent in the agenda, while conversations went back and forth endlessly with a resolution still seeming so far off. 

It was in the middle of a recess that the doors opened and a servant approached her guard. The message was passed on before her guard relayed it to her, “An Abbasid ship has arrived at the port. It carries a diplomat.” 

Jill smiled, “Send for Jasmine.” She instructed as she rose from her seat. It wasn't something that needed her immediate attention, but it was something that she wanted to handle personally. 

She excused herself, letting the others continue the daily agenda in her absence, while she went to the throne room. It was in the central building, making it something of a walk, but when she arrived, she knew it was the right place to greet them. 

They had handcrafted the throne room to the smallest detail, using everything that they had learned from Rome and its Imperial Palace. It was such an important part in everything that they hoped to achieve -- the throne room was the last flourish in a long display of wealth and grandeur. 

People who had grown up in stick and mud hits would arrive at Miklagard and find a city beyond imagination. They would arrive at the palace, which was grander than anything that they could have hoped to see in their lifetime. It, more than the closed fist of Siegfried or her soft words, convinced those that saw it that Siegfried was right. 

And, to those who came from afar, such as the diplomats of Francia, Rome or the Abbasids? What they would find was a peer. They would have heard rumors and hearsay that the North was a desolate land where the people were savages -- a lowly culture that was beneath them. But they would arrive to find sophistication and opulence equal to or surpassing anything they’d seen in their homelands. 

The throne room was that idea made manifest in its purest form. It was long, with thick pillars supporting a second floor that were covered in silver vines that grew up from their base, sprouting buds of inlaid jewels while plaster told stories of the gods. Banners hung from the walls with the family crest that Siegfried had taken in Rome. A two headed raven, its wings fanned out, with an axe clutched in one talon and a mistletoe in the other. 

On the far wall was the throne itself; it was unassumingly simple, made from stone and bone. That was until you learned where the bones came from – the very same wolf that gave Siegfried his title, ‘Wolf-Kissed’. Alongside its pelt, he'd taken the beast’s very bones when he finally slew it, and they now served as his seat of power, with them arranged perfectly within the stone seat. One day, she knew, a mural would be placed behind the throne, but Siegfried chose to hold off until their children became adults so that they would all have a place in it. She hoped that all of them would inherit his height, because otherwise, Siegfried's descendents would look quite small in his throne. 

Siegfried and Jasmine had already arrived ahead of her, with Rajah curled up at Jasmine's feet. The old tiger spent more time sleeping than he did awake these days, and as he usually did, he was curled around Radahn, who looked like he was fighting off the urge to nap alongside him. And losing. Jasmine spared Jill a glance as she approached and took her place on a smaller throne, but said nothing. 

She arrived just in time, because it was a few minutes later before the Abbasid party arrived. Jasmine immediately perked up, smiling as the surprise was unveiled. 

The Abbasid diplomat walked at the head of the group of about two dozen. He was an older man wearing silk damask robes, approaching with a deliberately slow gait and Jill saw the exact reaction that she hoped to see. The subtle amazement, the quiet awe -- they had come expecting nothing, and instead found a peer. That in itself was worthy of awe and respect, but it was all the more impressive when they understood that a mere five years ago? 

There had been a sleepy village here, and nothing else. 

“Greetings friends,” Siegfried greeted them in Arabic when the party stopped and offered their customary bow to a foreign ruler. “You have come a long way.” 

“Allvaldr Siegfried,” the diplomat returned, his tone respectful. “You honor us with your presence and your friendship. Our nations are far apart, but the friendship between them is unyielding. So says Caliph Harun al-Rashid, and with these gifts, he hopes to convey their unmistakable truth.” 

Jill's smile became a little more fragile as she realized that there was more to this diplomatic envoy than what had been planned. What had been planned was revealed with a gesture as a tigress was brought into the room, and Radahn was abruptly woken from his nap when Rajah abruptly stood up. 

It was meant to be a gift for Jasmine -- she hid it well, but it was clear that she missed her home at times. It wasn't a matter of having Abbasid servants, or hearing Arabic or even their horrifically spicy food. It was about her family. And that meant Rajah, who was an old man with a year or two more left in him at most. 

Yet, even as Jasmine laughed with delight as the two tigers were introduced, Jill knew that there was more to the envoys that met the eye. He had stressed the friendship between them… 

Meaning that he was here to invoke the terms of their alliance.