IdeasGuy
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Legends Never Die: Plans in Motion (ch. 112)
🕑 Added 2025-02-12 15:54:57 +0000 UTCPeople didn't really know how to react once I returned to the island some hours later. It wasn't that they weren't happy -- there was rejoicing and celebration. Especially from those who took the wolf’s presence as an intensely dark omen as it had denied them a sacred grove. However, for the most part, people were just… stupefied. They gazed upon me, upon the pelt that I now wore as a cloak, and they couldn't believe their eyes.
There were already tales and songs being spun. A runestone was being placed in the grove to commemorate our battle. But, for the most part, people didn't know what it meant. They had taken to calling the massive wolf Fenrir, but when they gazed upon its pelt and they realized its size hadn't been a product of exaggeration…? They began to wonder, however silently, if I really had claimed the pelt of Fenrir.
If I was being completely honest with myself -- I was also silently curious as well. I hadn't named the artifact that I now wore. The gods did. Was it called that only because the people of Norway had taken to calling it thar? Or was that really the child of Loki? Had I somehow interfered with prophecy? The idea seemed too grand for me to believe. Arrogant, almost. Odin himself was subject to Fate and the Norns, yet I had somehow cast off the shackles?
No, that couldn't be the case. I was no god. At most, I was perhaps a tool to them in their ambitions and plots, but the affairs of the gods were well above the ability of a mortal to meddle with.
However, to the people of Norway? Those who already believed that I had divine heritage, if not divine myself?
They were certain in their belief, and they took to wagging their tongues at everyone who would listen. It wouldn't surprise me if word spread across Norway in a matter of hours, and by tomorrow, Denmark and beyond would know. I could shout the truth from the mountaintop until I was blue in the face, but I couldn't hope to outback the rumors that were already spreading. Which just compounded the issue -- people didn't know how to react.
Because… some of them were starting to think I had somehow averted Ragnarok. And how do you react to the presence of the man who, in your thoughts, had saved the world?
“Your homeland is beautiful,” I heard a voice announce alongside the crunching of frost. There was a morning chill that still lingered despite it being in the height of Spring. “Harsh. Cold. But very beautiful,” Jasmine said, taking a seat next to me upon a log that I sat on, a toy warrior slowly taking shape in my hands with a whittling knife.
“Have you been adjusting well?” I asked her in Norse -- she insisted upon it, citing that it was the language of my people and that she needed the practice. And… well, she did.
“Your mother has been most kind,” Jasmine replied with a soft smile. “I thought I hid it better, but she saw my… hesitation at how different things here were.” Jasmine admitted, gazing off at the view I had claimed to buy myself some peace that I knew wouldn't last. From where we sat, we had a great view of the mountains and the sea.
I chuckled, “I did warn you.”
“You did,” Jasmine admitted with a small nod. “I just… I thought I prepared myself for it, but…” She didn't finish -- not because she didn't know what to say, but because she didn't know how to say it without it sounding too harsh.
“It is why I went to Rome,” I said, carving away at the lump of wood that steadily took shape with every swipe of the carving knife. “The settlements of my people number in the thousands. I think Ribe in Denmark is the largest settlement my people have, and I doubt that it numbers more than ten thousand.” A city, to be sure, but nothing like what I saw in the Mediterranean.
“Well… I suppose it's best if you're starting from scratch. Comparatively speaking,” Jasmine allowed, and I chuckled. That was true. It was much easier to prepare a landscape for change if you weren't tearing something down first. “When will you begin? Now that you have sorted things with the wolf?” How she phrased it made me glad that Jasmine was the one to approach.
She wasn't one of my people. She held her own God in her heart, so the wolf whose pelt I now wore was just a very large wolf to her.
“I have already sent a messenger to the lands of Saxony. When they return, we'll set out there… and then we invade Denmark,” I said, gazing out and knowing that I was generally looking in the direction of my home. “The campaign will have its challenges -- though, they will be a very different sort than I'm used to. But, we'll be victorious. And I will be king.”
The thought did make my knife hesitate, making me cut a little deeper than I meant to with the toy for Arne. Nothing I couldn't smooth out.
In truth, I had acted as a king for some time now. I had an army, and a city that I built with my own hand. I engaged in trade, diplomacy, and war with other nations -- always at the behest of the Romans, true, but the experience was still the same. However, it was the title that made my guts tie themselves into knots. It made it feel very real.
I would be a king. Norland, as much I had built it up -- I always knew it was a temporary holding. The people there mattered, as did my governance, but it was always a place where I planned to make mistakes whose long reaching consequences didn't truly matter as they wouldn't affect me.
But a few years ago, I thought a farm would be the height of my ambition and now conquering a kingdom would merely be a step on my journey.
I both dreaded it and was anxious to get everything under way. I had so many ideas for my kingdom, for my people, that I wanted to implement. Yet, I knew that the price for a crown would be steep -- in blood and deeds alike. As I was no closer to answering a question that plagued me since I slew Grimar.
“So you shall,” Jasmine agreed. “Among other things.” She said, bringing my attention to her to find Jasmine placed her hands on her stomach.
She smiled at my widening gaze, “Morrigan confirmed it this morning. I am with child,” she said and I took a deep slow breath, savoring the moment.
Wordlessly, I reached out with a hand and held hers. She seemed to appreciate the gesture as she squeezed my hand, a gentle smile tugging at her lips.
Once more, my family would grow. This child would be born into the world as a prince or princess. It renewed my resolve as we shared a private moment, both of us silently excited for our child -- whatever my doubts or my hesitations, I had to build the future that I wanted my child to live in.
I would make mistakes. I would have regrets. But, so long as I moved forward to that goal, I knew I was doing the right thing. So, for them, my grand children, and their grandchildren, and even the grandchildren of theirs that I would likely never meet -- I had to follow through. I had to succeed. I had to lay a foundation that wouldn't fracture under the weight of time.
I will succeed. No matter what stood in my way.
…
In the time we waited for the messenger to return, we acquainted ourselves with our family. The children were all introduced to each other, though most of them couldn't actually do much. Ragnar in particular was winning hearts of Astrid's side of the family -- he had a great number of aunts, uncles, and cousins who showed great interest in him and he was all but besieged by playmates. It was a good experience for him. He had friends in Norway, but Norway itself had been a dangerous place so he couldn't really get the same experience of just being a child.
For my part as well, it was good to be reintroduced to Astrid's family. Largely because the last time I was here, I had been focused on forging the kingdom of Norway.
“Hoffer the Cleanser is a fine fighter -- better with his fists, though,” Astrid informed me as we chatted away at the longhouse, a wrestling competition happening in the square. With my return, and the tale of how I gained my cloak -- the people were spurred to action. Unless King Hoffer wanted every able bodied man joining us, even if they had to swim alongside the ships, he had to put a cap on the number of men that could join. So, he formed competitions where warriors could challenge others who had secured a spot on the invasion.
“The Cleanser?” I echoed, finding myself increasingly unsurprised by the nicknames that Astrid's side of the family created. When every man was named Hoffer, they had to get creative to differentiate between themselves.
“Story is that Hoffer the Cleansed used to be Hoffer the Black on account of his foul temper. Looking at him the wrong way was reason enough to beat someone senseless, or so I hear. That lasted until he picked a fight with Hoffer the Hammer, since the Cleansed was the blacksmith at the time. Don't know what it was about, but the Hammer laid out the Black with heavy blow -- people even called him the Hammerfist for a while.” Astrid explained excitedly as I had to give the tale my complete attention just to follow along.
“The Black ended up falling into a slumber for three whole days after the beating. Just when it looked like he wouldn't wake again, he opened his eyes -- but, the thing is? He was a completely different person! Nice as can be, always lending a helping hand. He even got married and has two boys of his own.” Astrid continued before jumping to her feet to cheer when one of the contestants got pinned. “After that, we figured Hoffer the Black had actually been possessed by a foul spirit for who knows how long! And Hoffer the Cleanser beat it right out of ‘em! They're fast friends now.”
It was a fascinating tale. Not particularly important, but it did feel nice to learn more about Astrid's family. They had been here for generations and they had a very rich history that they were proud of. It was just that history was confusing for everyone outside of their family.
Her family was also vast. Vast enough that it felt like they could fill a town. It only became clear once the countless branches of their family began to return to their homeland once Hoffer the Vast became king, but I was fairly certain that one in every ten men in Norway was a Hofferson. Most were powerless and many times removed from the main branch that ruled their ancestral island, but even they still took pride in their heritage.
“Your family history is rich. I'm surprised the island isn't covered in Runestones,” Jill noted, a smile in her voice. She sat to the side of Astrid, keeping an eye on the piles of children that were put in a corner while the competition happened. Thankfully, my children's red hair made them stand out. I'm not sure how the others would tell whose child belonged to who, though.
“As if the menfolk need fatter heads,” Astrid snorted. “You got anything like that? Your family ruled over Alabu for generations, haven't they?” Astrid asked the question but only caught herself a second later when she realized what she just asked. She winced but Jill just smiled, patting Astrid's hand in a gesture that she was fine.
And she did seem to be. Since we returned, I always kept an eye on Jill. Knowing what we planned was one thing, but the hour of my vengeance had finally arrived. I wouldn't have begrudged her a time of mourning or regret, but if Jill felt those things at all, she kept them very well hidden.
“Of a sort. Alabu was just a village for many generations before my father. It was only my grandfather who turned it into a town… though, calling it as much feel a but silly now,” Jill admitted. “That was what put my father and King Sigfred in conflict, however. Alabu suddenly became worth having, and King Harald, King Sigfred's father, started to take it over by force or by guile. It was a feud that my father inherited and… it shaped him.” Jill voiced and…
I wasn't sure if I wanted to learn anything about Horrik. Everything that I would do would be so much easier if he was just an honorless villain in my eyes. A man who would ruthlessly murder to satisfy his own ambition. I knew that wasn't all there was to the man, but…
“I've heard as much,” I admitted to Jill. “My mother told me a bit about what your father had mine doing when he served him.” Such as playing the part of the traitor, even as Horrik grew increasingly more paranoid.
Jill nodded slowly, “He's dedicated everything to his fight with King Sigfred. His life, and the lives of his children…” she trailed off, her expression pinching. Then a small sigh escaped her as she gazed out to the competition and she muttered something that was nearly lost in the sea of noise.
“What an absolute waste.”
And I didn't know what to say to that.
…
The messenger returned after a few days with news that King Widukind was ready to receive us in the same settlement that had delivered to me my ships, which felt like so many years ago. With him, he would bring a force of two thousand men as he could hardly afford to leave his borders so undefended. Charlemagne had kept his promise that he would lead no army into Saxony, but as I understood it, there were frequent raids from Denmark and Charlemagne's fringe nobles that kept him on his toes.
It was then that I departed, choosing to leave Jill and Jasmine behind along with our children. Astrid would be needed in the coming days while Morrigan would keep me informed of whatever plots were brewing around me. I left them in the care of my Mother, along with my sisters and goodsisters, who were then in turn protected by five hundred of my veterans. Just in case.
It felt like we had hardly settled down before we were back at sea once more, this time accompanied by five thousand of King Hoffer’s warriors. We sailed by the coast of Denmark, and I could see the frantic movements as they responded, ready to repel a naval invasion. Their own ships showed us, following along in our wake while their scouts on land kept a very close eye on our movements. That only changed when we landed in Saxony.
In the coming days I knew that the army would be mobilizing to concentrate once they knew where we planned to attack. possibly their numbers would be bolstered even further with Horrik making promises of rewards to every green boy who could wield a spear, just to make sure he could drown me with sheer numbers.
It was as we arrived in Saxony that I saw things had changed -- a palisade had gone up around the settlement. Telling me that King Widukind had been harried this way from Horrik.
King Widukind himself, however, seemed unchanging as he stood at the end of the docks, waiting to receive us. He was smaller than he was in my memories, but that was only because I was so much larger. Though, I did note that the hints of gray that had formed during the Saxon rebellion had deepened and spread. He was older, but still strong. Unyielding. And that was how I remembered him.
As my ship docked, I, along King Hoffer, were the first to disembark. I saw his gaze flicker between us, yet his gaze lingered on the cloak that I wore over my armor. I knew I cut quite a sight. Very different from the boy who he had saw off.
“King Hoffer,” King Widukind greeted Hoffer first before turning to me, his gaze still lingering on the wolf head that adorned my shoulder. “Wolf-Kissed. I see the rumors were true, then. You repaid the wolf who gave you your name,” he remarked, a hint of exasperated amusement in his voice.
“Aye. That I have,” I agreed with a slight grin. “And now I'm here to repay another wolf that I hear has been troubling your door, King Widukind,” I said, offering a hand and we clasped forearms. The gesture was then repeated with King Hoffer.
“That is a relief to hear,” King Widukind admitted. “But, first, allow me to offer refreshments as I sense that we have many things to discuss.” To that, I nodded as we were escorted into the small town that barely boasted more than a few hundred people, if that. Still, we were received quite warmly by the villagers, as well as King Widukind's army.
I had left an impression in Norway, but I had been a savior in Saxony. Instrumental in its successful rebellion, and the people hadn't forgotten it. As soon as they saw me, I was greeted with people chanting ‘Wolfkissed’ all the way up until we arrived at the manor at the heart of the village. A simple and unassuming building made of wood with dirt floors.
Wine was quickly offered, and I accepted it while the three of us were seated at three points at a round table. Thankfully, both Hoffer and I had received a bench rather than a chair.
“I have dedicated two thousand men to this alliance,” King Widukind voiced, interlocking his fingers as he rested his hands on the table. “I will admit -- it is not as large of a contribution as I hoped for, but the years have not been kind to Saxony. Our attention has been divided between Denmark and Francia, and we have bled men in constant raids on both sides.” There was a certain grimness in his voice and that told me why the graying had intensified in the years since he won the rebellion.
“Which is why,” King Widukind began, fixing a sharp look in my direction, “I'm quite curious why you would allow our enemies to unite behind their fortifications.”
That was a bit more direct than I expected, and I think that was because I was used to dealing with the faffing around that the Romans preferred. King Hoffer was quick to nod in agreement. “We are your allies in this venture, Wolfkissed. We both owe you much. But, I will confess… I don't understand this move of yours.”
I inclined my heads to them, “That is something I have wished to speak to you both about. But, first, what do you mean by fortifications?” I asked and King Widukind answered swiftly.
“Horrik has built a wall between the river of Trenee to the Baltic Sea,” he answered grimly. “A deep trench was dug, with earthworks built on the other side. A palisade was then put on top of that, making the entire area rather difficult to attack. I believe you gave him quite the fright when you departed three years ago, because he started building it as soon as you left.” The Danevirke, I realized.
It wasn't that Horrik had built it, but he had likely expanded upon it. It was initially built some centuries ago to, I now suspect, keep out the Romans.
“I see. It matters little. In fact, that is better,” I decided, mulling the information over quickly. The two men seemed unsure about that, so I placed my hands on the table in a gesture of openness. “Before I begin to explain my plans, I wish to ask -- are either of you familiar with what King Charlemagne is currently doing?”
King Widukind's eyes narrowed a fraction, “I have heard take that he has gone down south to a city called Rome to meet with the Christian Pope. But, none of my spies have been able to give me an answer why. The lower nobility, and even the middling, were kept in the dark.” He replied, and he was very interested in what I had to say. Far more so than Hoffer, who had an ocean between him and the Frankish King.
“He is in Rome discussing an alliance with the remnants of the Roman Empire,” I said, and I could tell that the words didn't truly mean much to either of them. King Widukind, as clever as he was, wasn't learned man. He didn't go to a university where the history of the land was available to him.
“The Romans? I know of them,” King Widukind admitted, “But very little. Did they not fall to the Franks long ago?”
“Among others, but yes,” I said with a small kid. “However, the Roman empire had been split in half as it was simply too large to rule efficiently. The Franks invaded the Western half of the empire, while the Eastern half remains to this day. And, it was there that I spent the last three years -- learning their ways. Their strengths… and weaknesses.”
There was a certain intensity that entered King Widukind's eyes at that, but king Hoffer remained uncertain. “Aye, so I've heard. The Romans have great wealth, and their food is just as rich. But why do you speak of this alliance with such concern?”
“Because Charlemagne, in the coming years, will marry Empress Irene, Empress of Rome, with the intention of unifying their realms. Meaning that the Western Roman Empire will rise again,” I said, meeting and holding their gazes. “An empire who, at its height, could field armies that numbered in the hundreds of thousands. Who had standing garrisons that outnumbered our combined forces five times over in dozens of regions.” A slight over exaggeration, but not by much.
Both of their expressions tightened at the news, but I continued to drive the point home. “Just this year, Charlemagne mustered an army of fifty thousand men for his invasion of Hispania. While he has pledged another twenty thousand to a people known as the Avars. Meanwhile, Rome has an army that can number as many as sixty thousand -- a far cry from what it was at its height, but that is the purpose of their union. They wish to restore Rome to what it was… and it shall be at our border.”
“Mine more so than yours,” King Widukind voiced, his hands curling into fists so tight his knuckles were bloodless.
King Hoffer seemed unnerved, but in control of himself. “That sounds like a bloody fucking mess. But you don't sound like someone who only has bad news, Wolfkissed. What exactly are you planning and what does it have to do with Horrik and his cronies?”
I couldn't have asked for a better opening, “Because it is my intention to create an empire that can match the Romans.” The words didn't register with them at first, earning a blink of surprise from King Hoffer while King Widukind went still. “Rome was built around the Mediterranean Sea. I shall do the same around the Baltic -- but conquering every tribe would be a life's work. There are many that can hide themselves in the shadows of mountains, and they could resist or run for years on end.”
I pressed my hands onto the table and spoke clearly, “Which is why I wish to fight a single great battle. I want to crush them on the field so that the defeated return home with word that they couldn't defeat me when they outnumbered us three times over with the largest army our people had ever seen. That will set in motion two things -- the smart ones will bend the knee. The stubborn ones will fight.”
I could see that it was sinking in at this point. King Hoffer's jaw was slowly dropping as he realized the scope of my ambition. King Widukind, however, already figured out my plan. “You intend to unite them against you.”
“I do. To the local Jarls, I will be far greater of a threat than some Romans that they have never heard of, and they will unite out of fear of me. I will allow them to as it will save me the trouble of hunting them down.” I continued as I slowly stood up. “The entire process, if done right, should only take around three to five years. At most.” Far ahead of what the gods offered as a deadline, and perhaps if I was more diplomatically inclined, I would need those ten years.
No. I intended to unite the Baltic in three years, ideally, and use the remaining time to integrate them together. Just as Rome did -- it conquered, then it built.
This was the answer that I had come to when I sat at the Colosseum. My people, by our nature and by our homeland, were separated and sparse. The land was hard, which didn’t make for easy living, so our people were comparatively few. As it was, even if I did conquer the Baltic Sea, my people wouldn’t have the same unending manpower that a restored Rome could boast.
Meaning that my biggest problem was I needed to force a migration to areas that I wished to develop by using the resistance that I would encounter to gather up the people for me. With my Map and the perks granted to me by the gods, I could efficiently use the population to best exploit the land itself as I integrated them into my kingdom. Of course, this approach would have its issues but those could be mitigated.
Which was why I was leaning into my reputation, sending out strong images that those who followed me found unimaginable success. I was no god, but I was an outrageously successful man by our standards and beliefs. That would be coupled with numerous development projects that would increase the quality of life for my people. To that end… conquering everything around the Baltic Sea was the easy part.
“For, you see, the real challenge isn't defeating thirty thousand men. That's easy. I've done it twice before already,” I said, still exaggerating a bit, but not by much. Because I had to convince them to throw in with me -- they had to buy into my ambition. Because, otherwise… “The real difficulty is that I need to defeat thirty thousand men while maintaining as much of their strength as possible.”
I already knew how I was going to do it. I had allowed a traitorous faction to fester within my military for years at this point. The spies Horrik sent to my army in the hopes that they would gain my trust in the hopes that they would be a dagger in my back when I could least afford it. Their numbers had dwindled-- one part because of battle, but others had switched their loyalties after years of fighting for me. As I had made them rich and powerful.
It was galling to put up with their presence in my army, but because I had, I knew exactly what Horrik planned. Which meant I could turn his trap into my own at my leisure.
“What exactly are you asking of us, Wolfkissed?” King Widukind asked in a low voice. Guarded and uncertain. Something he shared with King Hoffer.
“Nothing,” I told them both. “I merely wish to show you all that I learned in Rome.”
After all, seeing was believing.
Comments
Silver flare
He's Smart in wanting to concentrate his populations to preplanned sites to get the most use out of his soon to be subjects. The Norse countries will need decades of development to be capable of supporting the culture and population he wants for his people. This is the more pragmatic way to go about it. His fellow northmen have not a clue wants coming for them. They're gonna get cultured the Wolf-Kissed way.
Kind
Pretty sure many of Siegfried's army are not satisfied with the state of their home countries. They will be all in on his conquering & redevelopment plans.
Kind
Hyped!
Heraclitus
Hype.
