IdeasGuy
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Legends Never Die: An Oath Fulfilled (ch. 119)
🕑 Added 2025-06-04 15:29:00 +0000 UTCThe next month was a flurry of activity. The war had been won, and I was now the uncontested king of Denmark, but the truth of it was that becoming king was the easy part. The battle against Horrik was something that I had set in motion and prepared for long before I arrived at my homeland's shores. What I faced now was a very different kind of battle.
It wasn't one that could so easily be settled with arms or words. It was a battle of influence.
The majority of the Jarls and Thengs had thrown in with Horrik because they knew the nature of our blood feud. They understood that they had to pick a side, and they chose Horrik's because they feared that the mere association with him would be enough to stain them in my eyes. And they were absolutely correct in that assumption, but they did misunderstand the moves that I made in the days after becoming king because of it.
The plans and ambitions I had for Denmark required a clean slate. With my Map, and all the perks I had poured into refining it, I could see exactly how to best develop the kingdom. That meant redrawing borders of territory, relocating villages to better take advantage of resources that they didn't know about nearby, and changing what village owed fealty to who. It meant breaking up Jarldoms that were long entrenched by naturally gaining power and influence from families, whose histories stretched back generations, by picking up the pieces from other families who hadn't withstood the test of time.
As one would expect, the Jarls and Thegns hadn't responded particularly well upon learning that I intended to strip them of their lands and titles. In the weeks following my ascension as King, there had been no less than a dozen attempts on my life from disgruntled Jarls. Morrigan found the plots as soon as they were formed, and one by one, each was foiled with the evidence being damning. The guilty were rounded up and put in the cells alongside Horrik and his sons, all of them awaiting execution that was fast approaching.
However, things swiftly changed once the rest of my army and the migration of some forty thousand people arrived. And, with them, came many of their replacements. The smarter Jarls decided to cut their losses with their arrival -- most took what they could, along with whatever retinue they could convince to flee with them, and they fled Denmark. Some would settle in Saxony, others would go further. Likely not far enough, however, as I intended to conquer the Baltic.
Meanwhile, some Jarls simply hoped to survive the change with their power relatively intact by bribing me with whatever they thought I wanted -- their daughters, gifts of gold and silver, or increased taxes.
It was a month before I felt comfortable enough with my position that I decided to recall my family from Norway. And, it was with their arrival that it came time for something else.
My coronation.
“I never dreamed that things would turn out this way,” my mother told me as I gazed out at Alabu. It would be where I had my coronation, but it was not where I intended to rule from. It was to be the final act of supremacy over Horrik and his bloodline -- to proclaim myself as king in what had been his capital. “I always knew that you were special. From the very first time you asked me about the voices of the gods, I knew that they had a great destiny for you.”
My mother's voice was small, almost frail, but filled with warmth. She reached out and took my weathered hand as we sat together, enjoying what would be some of the final moments of peace we would receive for a very long time, I imagine. A scaffolding was being repurposed near the Thing stone -- a great rock that a folkmoot would be held around, where a Lawspeak would make proclamations from. Horrik had intended for it to be the platform which my execution would take place if they managed to take me alive.
It was a good location. A natural one. The area was elevated, but open enough that the entirety of Alabu would be able to see the execution take place. More importantly, it was in the shade of a great ash tree, one that Odin seemed to favor, as there were many ravens who called the tree home.
“I wish it didn't come at such a cost,” I replied, my heart heavy.
“Greatness can only be made with sacrifice. Sacrifice and blood,” my mother chided me sharply, but not unkindly. She didn't disagree, I imagine. “Would you have become the man that you are if your father hadn't been murdered? Your brothers? If we hadn't been chased from our home, and you didn't know where?”
No. I wouldn't. “I'd give back the crown if it meant that that they'd be brought back,” I admitted, and my mother offered me a sad smile in response.
“Your destiny is grander than a mere kingdom, Siegfried,” she reminded gently. “Denmark is merely the first. You intend to reshape our way of life. To unite our people in ways that are unthinkable. Your father would have gladly given his life to see your dream become a reality. Your brothers too.” She gave my hand a gentle squeeze, but then her gaze hardened. “Honor their sacrifice, Siegfried. And appease their spirits with blood and vengeance.”
My hand curled around my mother's, and I offered a single curt nod. I found myself… unsteady the closer the hour of everything I had worked towards came. Unbalanced, almost. It was bad enough that my mother felt the need to gently confront me about it. It was just… so much time and effort and… emotional weigh had been put into this moment, and now that it was here, I felt like I was shedding that weight. A burden that I had carried for years now was being lifted off my shoulders, and it was only now that I realized how crushing it had been.
But, without that familiar weight, I was off balance in a way I didn't quite know how to describe. It felt like I had crossed a finish line of sorts -- while I had large ambitions and plenty of goals ahead of me, more than I could likely accomplish in a single life time, the goal of taking vengeance on Horrik… it dominated my life up until this point. And now I felt almost listless despite all my plans.
“Have you spoken to Jill?” My mother asked, and I suppose she saw my shift in demeanor.
“I have,” I admitted with a small grimace. “She is as good as she can be, I think. Which is still not… good,” I added.
“It's not so easy to cast off your family, especially when you're going to bear witness to their end,” Mother noted, her lips thinning ever so slightly. “It's easier when they're half a world away.”
“Would you stay with her?” I asked, knowing that as much as Jill had prepared herself for this moment, it wouldn't be enough. Not truly. “And, should she need it… give her an excuse to leave early?”
“I will,” Mother agreed. “But I think you're underestimating her, my son. She knows that this is something that she can't flinch away from. Not without consequence.”
I knew that. Jill had more than proven herself to me, but now that we were back amongst our people… she would have to prove herself to them. In Rome, no one had cared that she was the daughter of a former king that I had a blood feud with and now deposed. Here? People would talk. Tongues would wag. And if Jill was seen shying away…
“I would like her to have the option,” I replied. “The consequences be what they may.” I could shield her reputation with my own, if needed.
My mother let out a small sigh, “Your mercy is your weakness, Siegfried.” She warned me, her voice as serious as I had ever heard. There was a weight to her voice I hadn't heard since she spoke of the plans she made in the aftermath of our family falling from grace. “With Jill. With the children. You can't rule and be kind, my son. To accomplish what you set out to do… harden your heart.” It wasn't a surprise that she saw through me. If anything, I expected it.
“Mercy is a luxury that I can afford with cruelty,” I replied, and she searched my face for a moment before she offered a single curt nod. I wonder what she saw with her Blessing?
“If she needs it, I'll make sure she can slip away unnoticed,” Mother assured me before she stood and placed a kiss on my forehead. “Be ruthless, Siegfried. At this stage… you can't afford even a single mistake.”
With the warning delivered, Mother stood up and left me alone so I could make my own preparations. And I used the time to gather my thoughts and prepare myself for the night to come.
There were rituals that needed to be done to prepare my body to become king. To be acknowledged by the spirits of the land so they would recognize me as their ruler. My body was slathered in ointments -- coating my torso in a reddish black soot while white runes were traced on the surface. There was a few reasons why I held off on my coronation beyond wanting the rest of my people to arrive -- some days, and some hours, midgard drew closer to the realms of the gods.
My coronation would happen during one of those days. One part was for political reasons -- if the gods did not wish for me to rule, then they would not accept my crowning on such auspicious days. People knew me as favored by the gods, but Horrik had also done what he could to poison that well so I would find any allies in his household. This should but those concerns to rest. Another reason why was it would help quell the rumors that I was in any way a Christian, and, hopefully, put an end to the ‘Norse Christianity’ that saw me as a prophet of God.
Lastly, it was for a degree of showmanship. A great sacrifice to the gods while solidifying my image to the kingdom I now ruled. I think Odin would approve of my plans, if he himself hadn't whispered them in my ear.
The next few hours went by incredibly quickly and dreadfully slowly. My body was marked, I drank the draughts that were prepared for me by the gothis and wise women. Though, I did worry that Iron Stomach had limited their effectiveness in opening my mind to the realms of the spirits as I didn't feel different after taking them. In that time, the population of Alabu and others from across Denmark began to gather around the Thing stone. The crowd was a great one, likely one of the largest gatherings that Denmark had ever seen.
Many of them were my people -- the allies I had recruited over the years. Some would be Saxons and Norwegians, and at the helm of them would be King Widukind and Hoffer. Others, however, would be the spies that still loitered within my kingdom. The ones that lingered to see me become king and would slink away to their homelands to warn them of my promise -- that I would come with an army at my back.
Then the moment arrived with the sound of drums beating. The sun began to retreat beneath the horizon, and I emerged from the longhouse. Outside of my door, there was a dense crowd that awaited me, but I paid them no mind. Nor did I march forward with any guards -- that too was part of the image that I was cultivating.
Power lay in perception. That was perhaps the greatest lesson I had learned in Rome. Titles only had meaning because people gave them meaning, as they did crowns and scepters. Leading up to my victory, I had crafted a reputation of might. That I was more than a man. My victories, and how easily I won them, solidified that image and so did this.
I knew that I was a powerfully built man. Years of hard labor and battle had thickened my arms and shoulders. My stomach was lean, and my abs flexed with every step. I stood taller than any other man in the crowd by at least half a head, if not a head and shoulders. I had inherited my father’s blood red hair and my mother's features, leaving me handsome and striking.
Most of my scars were covered underneath the pigments, but some were still noticeable, such as the one upon my neck and the other on my forearm -- both given to me by a great beast.
By my people's standard, I knew that I was close to the ideal man. I was strong. I was a great warrior. I was a tried and tested leader of a large army. I was immensely wealthy. All of my children were born healthy and strong. That was the perception I had cultivated during my return to Denmark -- that I was the ideal king for our people. It was that perception that would make everything that came after easier to accomplish.
The crowd parted for me as I marched forward, heedless of their grasping hands that brushed over me. Despite the number of people before me, there was a loud silence as they stared at me with a sense of muted awe. As I passed by, the crowd began to follow me outside of Alabu, towards the Thing where the great crowd gathered. The drums hammered away, joined by singing, as if to summon me.
Above, the sky darkened, leaving the night full of stars and, to my immense relief, I saw the rainbow bride emerge. The vibrant colors -- bright greens, reds, blues, and purples all streaked across the sky in a jagged pattern. I wondered if that meant the gods themselves would be joining the crowd to see me crowned king? The thought felt arrogant. One worthy of punishment, honestly. But, I couldn’t quite dismiss the hope that my ascension to King was deemed important enough that the Aesir bore witness.
In an elevated position, around the Thing stone, I saw my family. My mother, my wives, my children, and my brothers. There were the leaders of my army, all standing beneath them, but just as important as none of this would be possible without them. The music and singing increased in volume, reaching a fever pitch as I walked by before suddenly going silent as I revealed myself by climbing to the top of the stone.
Thousands of eyes looked up at me, their expressions intense and eager.
“My name is Siegfried Erikson,” I began, my voice loud and carrying. “It is now, before all the spirits and the gods, that I say this -- I am king of Denmark,” I boomed, and I, alongside the crowd, waited for the gods and spirits to give their response. Yet, we were met with silence, and that was their verdict.
“I know you all have heard much about me. Some of you knew me as a boy once favored by Horrik back when I was making a name for myself during my first raid and the Saxon rebellion. Others amongst you have fought beside me for years to the far corners of the world. And, the majority of you, only know me from the poisoned words Horrik dripped in your ears.” I continued, earning a few cheers and stomping feet, then boos when I mentioned Horrik. “In that time, much has changed. I understand this. I understand your fears and your doubts.”
“I hear your whispers -- ‘how does this affect me?’ ‘What does this mean for my family?’” I continued, and I saw sharpening expressions in the crowd from those who had likely uttered those same words. “I do not begrudge you for your doubts and concerns. Change brings about uncertainty. However, I cannot reassure you because it is my intention to change things a great deal.”
I breathed in deeply, and just as I saw countless faces before me, I could feel the gazes on my back. My family. My children. All of them listening intently, waiting for me to declare my intentions for the world and the gods to hear.
“Things have changed, and more shall change in the coming days, weeks, and years,” I declared. “They must. For I have borne witness to the great empires of the world, and I have learned what made them great. I have seen the power that they wield -- armies hundreds of thousands strong, cities that could contain the entire five hundred thousand population of Denmark. I have seen how they build with stone, and those buildings stand from a time when Odin walked Midgard. And it is this knowledge that I am determined to share with all of you. To turn Denmark into the foundation of the next great empire.”
I calmed my pounding heart, the excitement getting to me. “First, I shall build a new capital city on the island of Sjaelland!” Much like Constantinople, Sjaelland sat at the opening of two seas -- the Northern Sea and the Baltic, making it a natural port and place to trade. Naturally, it would also be defensible. “It shall merely be the first project amongst many. Roads that connect not only every city and town, but villages. Great temples where we may honor the gods, and places of learning so we may honor Odin, the God of Wisdom. You have already reaped the benefits of the farming changes that Horrik had stolen from me -- and I tell you now, they are merely the first of the great tide of changes to come!”
As I delivered the speech, I made practiced gestures. Cicero, one of the greatest oreiters of Rome, had left behind lots of his secrets of success. My voice carried, but perhaps not far enough. Dramatic gestures would help those at the back see me and visualize my speech even if they couldn't hear it over the sound of the crowd roaring with approval.
There was real passion in my voice as I laid out my plans. Already, I had begun constructing a model of Denmark in a one to one replica of my Map. Every resource I had the ability to see would be marked, not just for me to take advantage of but those that would come after. With Simulation, I could test the roads that would need to be built and how to best interconnect my kingdom. To prepare it for what came next.
Raising a hand, I quieted the vast crowd, though it took a minute. “Great changes are coming and I swear to you, as your king, they are to your benefit. Denmark will be reforged anew to be stronger than any Kung before me ever dreamed of. That, I swear to you -- here, before the spirits and the gods.” On cue, Thorkell presented me with the Cloak of Fenrir and Gram. Our eyes met briefly, and there was a twinkle in his eyes.
He mouthed a few words to me, and I nearly stumbled when I understood them.
‘Proud of you.’
That meant more to me than he suspected, I think. If he did, he probably would have found a better time to tell me that.
I took a steadying breath and draped the Cloak of Fenrir over my shoulders and there was a rippling of shock at the sight. I was a large man, but the cloak covered me down to my ankles. With a single dramatic motion, I unsheathed Gram and held it aloft. “I swear upon these artifacts -- a pelt taken from a great wolf and the blade Gram, the blade of my namesake reforged!” Another wave of cheering rang out and I lowered the blade and rested my hands atop the hilt while the tip bit into the stone.
“However, before we can look to that future and what tomorrow might bring, we must lay the past to rest,” I continued and it was then that prisoners were dragged forward. “These men are guilty of fearing the changes that I bring. It is understandable and I do not condemn them for their fear, but for the attempts on my life!”
The crowd was working itself up into a fever pitch, and I think if I threw the prisoners into the crowd, they'd kill them for me. There was a risk that they'd rush up to do the job if I wasn't careful.
“Poison is the weapon of cowards,” I continued, wondering if many could even hear me. “As are knives in the dark. They feared to face me in the light of day in an honorable duel, so I deny them an honorable death.” My tone hardened as the guards placed knives to their throats. I gave a single nod and their throats were cut, unleashing a spray of blood for all to see. “I offer their lives to the Aesir and their hearts to Odin,” I continued, as the bare men had their stomachs split and their hearts removed from their chest.
Human sacrifice was hardly a rare thing in our ways, though I had learned it was less common elsewhere. Amongst my people, it was fairly commonplace to offer the lives of the defeated to the gods as thanks for victory in a hard fought battle, where it was their favor that was the deciding factor. I honored the gods as was proper, though I rarely indulged in human sacrifice.
There had never been a particular need to. The gods put challenges before me, but they always expected me to overcome them. It was why they gave me quests and rewards. Victory would mean little when I had to beg the gods for aid in a quest they had given me.
But this was different. This was my ascension to kingship. I'm sure that the gods would continue to challenge me, but hopefully this sacrifice would earn their temperance.
The hearts were collected in a woven basket before placed amongst the roots of the ash tree behind me. Amongst the crowd, I could see some were uncomfortable with the display. They, I imagine, were the Jews that had recently arrived or migrants that Horrik had attracted.
“I offer them my vengeance,” I continued, and it was then that two familiar faces were brought forward. Knud and Rolf. Their hands were placed and bound in the antlers of a deer skull slotted on two posts, forced to kneel with their heads low. My brothers approached from behind, their expressions intense as they glared down at the defeated brothers. I resisted the urge to glance at Jill, hoping that she had prepared herself for this. “The remaining sons of Horrik. Both shall suffer the Blood Eagle -- and should they remain silent, I am certain that the gods will recognize their strength.”
Such was the blood eagle. My time in Rome and the Abbasid Caliphate had taught me the many creative ways emperors of the past had executed their prisoners. Some were a great deal worse than the blood eagle, but they didn't have the same weight to them. The blood eagle was a uniquely brutal form of execution that, if done correctly, the victim would die of suffocation only when their lungs were removed.
From my vantage, I saw them both begin as the drum beat resumed.
A large cut with a hot knife down the spine. Flesh ripped to the sides, exposing the ribs. An axe that cut them along the spine, not unlike butchering a pig. Each rib broke along the sides, exposing the victim's lungs when they were pulled back. Salt splashed over the wounds for even more pain. Then the lungs were ripped from the victim and rested upon the shoulders, giving the image of an eagle in flight.
The execution was torturous and it was why any who suffered it and managed to not scream… surely they would be worthy of Valhalla, regardless of what they had done in life.
However, neither Rolf nor Knud would be entering Valhalla this day. Both screamed with Knud screaming as his back was slit by Haldur.
The execution took minutes and it only ended when both men died of asphyxiation, gasping for air with lungs that they no longer had. By the time it was done, the drum beats had stopped and both of my brothers seemed oddly exhausted. They looked up at me, their hands slick with blood.
I smiled at them, and they returned it.
I felt lighter. So light that it felt like I might fly away. That weight I had been carrying for years, the guilt I felt for not being there to save my family… it was lifted off my shoulders at last. I could feel the spirits of my father and brothers being put to rest with this act of vengeance -- the blood debt had been repaid. Knud and Rolf were both dead.
And in the deepest hole I could find, Horrik and Thorfinn were suffering a fate worse than death.
My quest for vengeance, at long last, was finally at an end.
It was time to be the king I knew I could be.
Comments
Vengeful Astartes
Vengeance. Served extremely cold.
Cameron Burchett
I love most of your stories, but damn does reading this one make me wish we’d get three chapters a week of it over everything else lol. It’s just SO GOOD.
