Legends Never Die: The Hunt Begins (ch. 115)

“So? How does it feel?” Thorkell asked me as I gazed out at Hedeby, the first city in Denmark that had acknowledged me as their king. The people that had hid behind the palisade had returned to their homes, even if they did have to put up with some extra guests. But even with five men in each house, the rest of my army was forced to camp outside the city. It just wasn't big enough. Not at all like Constantinople, which could house an additional twelve thousand men and hardly notice. 

The it in question was obvious enough, and it was exactly what I was pondering. 

“Honestly?” I said, glancing his way as he came up the rampart, my lips pressing together before I glanced back at the town. “It doesn't feel like anything has changed. I woke up this morning a king, and it feels like any other day.” 

I had expected a greater change. I'm not sure what exactly, just… something. A weight on my shoulders that hadn't been there before, or that the world would somehow be different. Instead, I woke up with an aching back because the feathered bed was too soft for my liking and not at all made for a man my size. Being king didn't suddenly mean that Astrid or Morrigan would share the blanket for the bed, forcing me to use my cloak, the Pelt of Fenrir, as a blanket to keep warm. 

“Heh,” Thorkell chuckled, standing next to me as he leaned against the ancient palisade. “Suppose there's a lesson somewhere in that. But, I reckon that's because your training back in the Mediterranean did its job well. You prepared yourself for this several times over, probably.” 

“Maybe that's it,” I wondered. I thought there would be something more once I became king. In Crete, my stay had always been temporary. Even when I ruled the lands, while I did invest myself into their success, I didn't care about them. They didn't mean anything to me on a more personal level- not like this. These lands I intended to rule for the remainder of my life. And… 

There was nothing. The dwarves didn't visit me to strike an accord. The spirits of the land didn't come to me in my sleep. I just woke up like any other morning, and today was any other day. I had a title now, and that was it. 

Perhaps it was because my title was contested? Was it because they didn't yet acknowledge me as the rightful ruler of Denmark? I suppose that was fair. As it was, I only ruled over a single town and a cluster of villages. 

“I've already sent Athrun out to scout Ribe. In the meantime, we’ll send out patrols to the local Thegns. They'll bend the knee, or they won't.” I said, resting my hands on the palisade. “Those that don't, we’ll chase off in Ribe’s direction. Or Alabu. They could use the help, I think. I made a stronger impression than I thought.” 

Athrun had already brought word that a sizable five thousand man contingent had broken off from the army I sent running. The circumstances weren't clear, but according to Athrun, the split wasn't an amicable one. 

That got a snort from Thorkell and, in turn, my lips twitched as a chuckle escaped me. 

“Then it's all going according to plan, then?” Thorkell questioned and I nodded. My efforts to cultivate my image had the desired effect, even if I wasn't entirely comfortable with how some spoke of me. I merely needed to win the next great battle and that reputation would be cemented for years, decades even, to come. It would be a cornerstone in my saga, and a deterrent to dissuade rebellion in the future. “I'd be careful about that. Men make plans and the gods laugh.” 

“I know that better than most,” I agreed with a sigh in my voice. I had spent years preparing for this war, and so far, it felt like I had overprepared. It was tempting to dismiss Horrik and Thorfinn -- I wanted to, even. They didn't feel like they could compare to rulers like Harun, or Charlemagne, or even Irene. But, I could feel it in my gut that the moment I dismissed them, I would suffer for it somehow. And I had suffered enough because of Horrik and his son. “We will progress carefully. Methodically.” 

Thorkell sensed the shift in my mood and offered a serious nod. “I'll get the word out we'll be moving on. But… What do you want to do with Godfrey? The man screamed himself hoarse cursing your name.” 

“I don't want to kill him,” I admitted to Thorkell. “The man has done nothing to me. His greatest offense was his assumption that I would help him become king because of the blood in his veins.” 

“Aye. But he has the potential to be a real problem for you. He didn't spend the last few years pinning all of his hopes on you. He made allies, recruited, and plotted against Horrik. All of that could just as easily be used on you the moment you deal with him.” Thorkell advised, leveling a pointed look in my direction when he saw my scowl. “Some are going to desert him when it's clear that he won't be the next king. But people are stupid, and some will stick with him all the same.” 

I should probably just kill him, I knew. It would risk losing Lagertha as an ally, but Godfrey was too politically relevant in Denmark. I could try to send him away, exiling him, but that ran the risk of him running straight to Charlemagne. It might take years, decades even, but one day a Frankish army could look to restore the old bloodline to the throne. I was confident in my ability to handle such an invasion by that point, but… 

It felt like I had a chance to avert such a problem to begin with. I just had to be willing to execute the man for what he might do. 

“I could use him,” I said, entertaining other possibilities. “Not all the changes I intend to implement will be popular. Having Godfrey as a rallying figure makes it easy to find which are courting treason.” 

“Aye, could do,” Thorkell agreed. “But you can just as easily have Morrigan do what she does best and find them anyway.” 

This time a sigh escaped me, knowing that he was right. “I will give him a chance. Lagertha will ask it of me,” I said, already knowing that much. She might have been the first to proclaim me king, but I'm sure that was partly to give herself some leverage over me to be used on behalf of her grandson. After all, it greatly helped my legitimacy to have such a legendary Shield Maiden vouch for me. However, if she were to suddenly withdraw her support? 

People would wonder why. And even if they heard the truth, they would provide their own answers to confirm whatever bias they had. 

“But I will test him. And he will fail,” I said, knowing it in my bones. “And then he will die.” 

Thorkell nodded at that, accepting the course of action. “It'll undercut any complaint ol’ Hare-Foot can use against you. Makes you look generous too. Aye, that sounds like the best way to go about it.” 

With that, he departed to go about rallying the army. Today, we will begin the march to Ribe, though we wouldn't reach it until tomorrow. The loss of Hedeby would be painful, but the loss of Ribe would be a fatal wound to Horrik's legitimacy. The loss of the Danevirke, then two of Denmark's largest cities? Such rapid blows would shake his foundations and force his hand. He would be forced to march to us, else his army would begin to splinter as it became clear which way the wind was blowing. 

However, Thorkell wasn't the only one with an opinion on what should be done with Godfrey. 

“I would ask for mercy, King Siegfried,” King Widukind said, standing with me as the army made its final preparations to march some hours later. “Godfrey… I owe his father a debt that I can never truly repay. After my first failed rebellion against the Franks, I fled to Denmark and King Sigfred sheltered me for years. He… was a dear friend.” 

I knew that much. I’d heard few details of his time in Denmark, but I knew that he had been sheltered for some years as he laid the foundations of his second rebellion. Though, it made me realize that I didn't know much about King Sigfred. From the moment I was first introduced to him, other biases colored how I perceived him -- he was the enemy of Horrik. Then he became my enemy when I was deceived into thinking he was responsible for my brother's death. 

“He agreed to aid my rebellion, but that killed him. Everything worked out for me, and in no small part because of you… but I can't deny that King Sigfred's legacy was destroyed by his aiding me and my people,” King Widukind continued. There was a lingering pain in his voice and a quiet exhaustion. He sounded tired in a way I hadn't heard since the days of the rebellion, shortly after the massacre of Verdun. “Horrik used his death to claim the throne, his realm was splintered, and now his son is in the dungeon of what was his home. So, King Siegfried, I would ask for mercy on his behalf… in exchange for a conversation.” 

I turned to King Widukind to see that despite his exhaustion, his eyes were still as sharp as ever. “The topic of this conversation?” I asked, giving nothing away. 

“A conversation about the future of Saxony… and the role it shall have in your… empire,” King Widukind stated and, I couldn't deny it, that had my full attention. “All of this of course hinges upon your victory against Horrik.” 

“Of course,” I echoed, a thin smile tugging at my lips. 

“Saxony cannot thrive caught between two giants. I understand that much. Despite all the blood I have spilled, both my own and that of others, for it's independence… all of it shall be in vain if Saxony is conquered shortly after my death.” He began, and I understood very well the importance of this conversation. The significance of what he left unsaid. 

Saxony was not included in the list of Kingdoms I had to conquer to complete the Grand Quest, but it was an important kingdom all the same. As it was the border of what would become a restored Roman Empire. Which made it something of an… issue of mine. 

It would be beneficial for me if Saxony remained independent. Denmark had a far smaller border to defend. If Charlemagne wished to invade Denmark, he would have to do it by sea or by marching through the Danevirke. While I had treated the latter like a minor inconvenience, that wouldn't be the case with me and my Chosen defending it. Or, if he attacked by sea… he would have to get through my fireships that spewed Greek Fire. 

Saxony had a much broader border, and it was more exposed. What's more, Saxony would undoubtedly mount a resistance if Charlemagne's armies came, which would give my empire time to gather its troops.

It was a rather strange position to be in, I reflected -- it was more beneficial to use Saxony, a nation I helped rebel against the Franks, as a buffer between them and my kingdom. 

“For certain guarantees, I am willing to lift this crown from my brow and bend the knee to you,” King Widukind said, and… I already respected him greatly. He was a significant part of my realization that I wasn't ready to become king after the rebellion and why I set sail to the Romans in the first place. But my estimation of King Widukind rose higher with the declaration. 

He was a true king -- one who embodied the values that I held highest. He was willing to swallow his pride and his power for the betterment of his people. For their safety.

“Safety guarantees are a necessity. I have begun a series of fortifications along the Rhine, but I lack the manpower necessary to guard them all. A standing garrison of five hundred warriors would be ideal,” he continued and I entertained the possibility. 

For all its benefits as a buffer, integrating Saxony was still appealing. The Rhine River was a great river that went on for hundreds of miles. It was a fine border to have, and it was the historical limit to the Roman Empire. It would defend the limits of Saxony, while granting us greater access to Rome, which would make Charlemagne's border harder to defend. Something that had a lot of appeal for seasonal raiding. 

It would also grant me access to Saxony’s natural resources -- in particular, timber. A lot of wood had been used in the rapid expansion of Hedeby and the Danevirke. But there were other resources like iron and fertile soil to consider. Additionally, integrating Saxony would open the door to Flanders, which was a kingdom under King Widukind's thumb. That could be quite useful for future endeavors. Because, while having a secure border benefited me, having a broad border would pose the same kind of problems to the Roman Empire. 

“If Saxony intends to submit to me, then it is only natural that I would secure its borders,” I replied, my tone far more conversational than what the topic warranted. Only we weren't talking about Widukind bending the knee. We were talking about talking about him bending the knee. “The fortifications already there are good, but a wall would be better -- in Rome, I learned of a substance called concrete. It is a type of wet stone that you can shape and once it dries, it hardens into solid rock.” 

There was a sharpness in King Widukind’s eyes. A hunger that pushed past wanting something and turned it into a need. “That sounds like a considerable project,” he noted.

“It will be,” I admitted. “Nor is it one that would be completed in a short amount of time. But it is an… investment that I would be willing to make. It may not make Saxony impenetrable, but it will make invasion far more difficult for any who come after us.” The idea was sound enough and there were plenty of examples to speak of. If I was going to fully incorporate Saxony into my empire, then I rather liked the idea of a string of fortresses along its border connected by a tall wall. 

“It sounds costly,” King Widukind noted. “I would wonder who would pay for such a fortification?” He asked probingly, proving that as much as he might want it, he was no fool.

“The Franks and Chrstians shall, for the most part,” I reassured him. “After my conquests, I don't intend to allow Charlemagne to gather his strength in peace. Years ago, you unleashed me upon the Franks with a band of men, and we raided every monastery and city we came across. The bounty was so great, we could only take the best pieces with us, else we would be slowed down.” 

There was a tension that eased out of King Widukind as he heard my words, but I wasn't sure of the cause. “That would make things difficult for him. Few would believe he is capable of restoring this… Rome when he cannot protect his own people.” 

I nodded, “It would be years in the future. Perhaps not within this decade, but when Charlemagne finally looks like he is regaining his footing… I intend to make sure he slips.” 

“This pleases me,” King Widukind spoke plainly, offering me a measured nod as he watched our men start to depart Hedeby. “I never imagined myself to be in this position, but… yours is a strength that can support Saxony. Support our people. So long as you do not stumble here,” he added, making it clear that this was just the first of many talks. 

“So long as I don't,” I agreed, giving him a nod before offering a hand. He looked down at it and I could see the weight of the decision on his shoulders. 

All the same, he clasped my forearm. 

And I felt bad. It was a pang of guilt, knowing the truth of the matter. It wasn't something I could have ever imagined myself doing a few years ago, and because of it, King Widukind couldn't imagine it of me either. 

This conversation didn't change any of my plans. Of course, I would follow my end of the bargain. I would send Godfrey to Saxony at Lagertha and King Widukind's behest. I would become King of Denmark, and at some point, I would test Godfrey. 

He would fail. Then he would die. 

I would keep the support of Lagertha and King Widukind because they wouldn't be able to justify revoking it. And if they decided to support Godfrey's ill conceived rebellion, well… 

That would be unfortunate for them. 

…

“I don't know what you expect from me, little girl. I've seen near a hundred summers, I reckon. I've been slower than a turtle for more years than I've been quick on my feet!” Lagertha said, laughing at her own expense. Astrid had about the reaction I expected of her meeting her childhood hero -- unrestrained adoration. I think if we weren't already married, she'd join Lagertha's order of Shield Maidens in a heartbeat. And the only reason being married stopped her was because it made her ineligible. 

“We could use your tactical acumen!” Astrid protested, as if she wasn't our strategist. “And your mere presence would have a great impact on our morale!” 

Lagertha laughed at Astrid's final efforts to convince her to join before we marched on Ribe. “Astrid, your warriors are already convinced they follow a god. I don't think their morale can get any higher,” she pointed out and Astrid visibly wilted, making Lagertha's gaze soften. “I'm an old woman now. I spent my life thinking that I'd die in battle, only for no idiot to manage to kill me. I have made my peace with that. And now, I look to brats like you to carry on the torch I've held for so many years.” 

Lagertha reached out and patted Astrid's hand. “That being said, there is still life in these old bones. I'll hardly croak the moment you look away!” 

It wasn't what Astrid wanted, I knew. She wanted to fight beside Lagertha as she imagined herself as a child. Much like I imagined myself slaying dragons alongside Siegfried when I was a boy. But she accepted it for what it was, bowing her head before standing tall. Lagertha caught my gaze and gave me a very deliberate nod that conveyed much.

Gratitude for sparing her grand nephew. A warning to protect Astrid. And a wish that I would emerge victorious. 

I returned the nod, glancing to Astrid, who was still a little down, but she wiped it off her expression. She was a queen now, after all. 

With no words needing to be said, we marched out of Hedeby. The town we conquered wished us well, even if they were a bit relieved to see their king off. Again, I expected things to feel a bit different as we moved through the land at a sedated pace. 

I was a king now. But I was still treated the same. I spoke to King Hoffer and King Widukind as peers, with the latter pretending our conversation never took place until it was time to formally address the topic. I still commanded men, and they were as quick as they ever were to obey. We scouted ahead, making sure that we didn't fall into some ambush, and Athrun simply reported that the city of Ribe was in a state of panic when they got word of our approach. 

Nothing had changed, I came to realize on the road. I never really put it into words, but I had always thought that kings were something… more. Divine, even. There had to be a reason why the Norns chose one man to be king and not another, after all. I had never guessed as to what that reason might be before, but now… 

Now I realized that king was just a title. Something that only had meaning because others gave it meaning. 

I had been a king for years now. I simply never had the title to go with it. 

Not the title, nor the lands. I had the first now, and I was looking to expand my borders once more. 

“That is Ribe,” Thorkell remarked as we gazed out at the largest city in Denmark. It was larger than Hedeby by half. Enough to surprise me a little bit. Some of it was that same rapid expansion that Hedeby suffered, but most of the buildings in Ribe looked old. So, perhaps my estimates of the population were off by a bit. Going off what I saw of Hedeby, I'd say that Ribe boasted a population of around twenty thousand. Perhaps up to thirty thousand at the highest estimation. 

“It looks like we were late,” I remarked, seeing the thick columns of smoke that drifted up to a cloudy sky that promised rain. Ribe could have used it a day ago from the looks of things. Though, some buildings were still burning. 

The sight wasn't a surprise. Athrun warned me a day ago that Ribe was tearing itself apart in the face of our march instead of standing together or submitting. How it happened exactly remained a mystery, but as Athrun told it -- in the wake of Horrik's army departing, a riot broke out. And, from the looks of things, it was still ongoing. 

“It's a trap,” Thorkell noted, scratching at the scar over his eye. 

“I'm sure he's left some men behind,” I agreed. I could hardly allow the rioting to continue. “They'll be blending in and waiting to kill some of my soldiers when they go to enforce peace. Or perhaps he hopes to assassinate me.” 

“Feels pretty shortsighted. A city like Ribe… that's going to hurt to put together, even on the assumption that the plan does work.” Thorkell pointed out and I hummed, watching as a handful of people spilled out from the city towards my army. They seemed panicked and, sure enough, True Sight marked one of them in red. 

Still, Thorkell had a point and Halfdan agreed. “Might not be Horrik, then. Could be Thorfinn. This seems like the kind of move he'd make.” That got a small frown from me as I realized he was right. This did strike me as the kind of short sighted ploy that Thorfinn would employ. But, I couldn't deny that it had an effect. 

I couldn't just leave Ribe be. It was too important of a city. I could march in there with my army and start cracking heads, but that would sour me to the population. If I went with a softer approach, we would be tied down here for days or weeks while Horrik was free to muster his strength. 

Meaning if I wanted to increase the pressure on Horrik and maintain my momentum, I needed to compromise. I already had a course of action in mind by the time the men reached us. They were breathless and their faces were smeared with soot. There were three of them, but the one in the center stepped forward and dropped to a kneel. 

“King Siegfried,” he greeted me. “I am Thegn Ulf -- I govern lands to the south of Ribe. We are here to ask for your assistance in restoring order to the city! Pri- Thorfinn saw fit to kick out the kegs of order in the city with his departure.” Looks like Halfdan was right on the mark. 

Near me, a low growl escaped Haldur's throat with his lips peeling back into a snarl. It made the other two men with Ulf glance at him warily but their gazes were fast to go back to me. 

I said nothing as I watched the smoke rise to the sky, and I don't think it would rain fast enough to douse the flames before they spread even further. Then I looked back down at Ulf, saying nothing until I raised an eyebrow. 

He was sharp, I would give him that. “A-and, naturally, Ribe will swear itself to you, King Siegfried. Has sworn itself. So it will be proclaimed,” he hastily added. 

Happiness: 3%

Quality of Life: 1/10

Population: 24,667

Population Growth: -0.5% decrease per year

Wealth: 5,888

Security: 7% per pop

Education: 3% per pop

Religion: 99% Norse Paganism, 1% Norse Christianity

As expected, Ribe was in rough shape. Honestly, it was as if Thorfinn and his army had sacked the city before we could. Which, honestly, wasn't far from the truth, all things considered. Still, if the city has sworn itself to me, then it made it my responsibility to ensure that peace and order are restored. 

“King Hoffer,” I said, looking at Astrid's father, who seemed surprised at the sudden address. “How many men would you say it would take for you to restore order in Ribe?” 

He gave the city another quick glance before he shrugged, “I would say a thousand. Two, to be on the safe side.” 

“Then would you take the two thousand men into the city and quell the riots?” I asked of him and he shifted in his seat, nodding but there was a wary expression on his face as he cast a glance my way. 

“Aye, I can do that, Wolfkissed. I said my men are yours to command, and I meant it… though, I am curious… what exactly do you intend to do?”

I offered a humorless smile as I inclined my head to the trodden dirt path that Thorfinn’s army had taken on their way out. My answer was simple and it brought a round of smiles to my brothers’ faces. 

“We’re going hunting.”