IdeasGuy
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Legends Never Die: Maverick (ch. 101)
🕑 Added 2024-12-04 15:56:44 +0000 UTCI found the Balearic Islands quite beautiful. They were beautiful in the same way Crete was, though unlike Crete, there was significantly more greenery: trees, grass, and shrubbery… combined with the mountainous terrain, which featured steep, sheer white cliff sides, soft sand beaches, and shallow harbors boasting brilliant blue waters…
It felt like the gods were tempting me at times. Tempting me to stay in this land, to leave my quest for vengeance behind. I could do it. The alliance with the Abbasid was all but official. I could rule over these islands. I could build cities upon them, enriched from the spoils taken from Francia's underbelly. My homeland had its own beauty, but this place…
It was easy to live here. There were no snows that left you trapped in your own home for months on end. The soil wasn't poor and littered with stones. The sea didn't freeze. It would be simple to just stay and bask in all that I have built. It would be an easier life for my children. I'm sure this land had its own thorns, but… they were irrelevant. My destiny lay in Denmark.
However, that was the future. As of right now, I had far closer concerns.
“What in the names of the gods is that man doing?” I asked myself, gazing out at the sea as the tide lapped at my boots. I couldn't see the man in question, but I knew what he was doing. “I can't tell if this is the masterstroke of a genius or the dumbest shit I've ever seen. And I grew up with seven older brothers.”
To the side of me, Thorkell let out a bark of laughter. “I think that'll only be answered if the gambit succeeds or fails.”
When I spoke of the plan to deal with the Umayyad’s fleet, I had put forth that there were two real paths that the enemy commander could take -- condense their forces, or spread them out. Each path had its own strengths and weaknesses, but I concluded that condensing the fleet was the better path. It would leave the coastal cities open to me, but I wasn't really the threat that the Umayyads had to be concerned about. That was the Abbasids that would be sailing to Hispania, and the massive fleet, however dubious the quality of its ships, was their one true way to dissuade an attack until the Franks were dealt with.
The Umayyad commander thought differently than I, and found a third path.
Going on the offensive.
“When can we expect them?” I asked Thorkell, as he had delivered the news. I scratched at my cheek, knowing that nearly a hundred miles beyond the sea, the Umayyads had gathered their strength in a city called Valencia. Over a thousand ships, though a significant portion of them were repurposed fishing and merchant vessels. Their positioning was just off the nearest island that we chose to land on, as it offered the shortest trip to Hispania's coastline.
Our arrival had been anticipated, and that is what made me cautious. Our intentions to raid the Umayyads weren't strictly a secret. Caliph Harun knew. I had informed Irene of my intentions and, as my mercenary contract stipulated that I was to fight her enemies in a time of peace, I had free reign to attack who I liked. Though, I imagine she would have preferred I raided foes closer to home. Lastly, Charlemagne knew I was going to raid as I sent an agreement to him prior.
I expected that the Umayyads had spies in various courts, as well as inside Norland itself. They likely learned of my intentions there. However, that didn't explain how they had reacted so… prudently. Maneuvering a fleet of a thousand ships was no trifling matter, so they had to have started moving into position before we had even set sail. Meaning that the commander had to have seen through my plan and for some reason that I struggled to fathom, he was going on the offensive.
“They're staying together, so I expect we'll see them by noon,” Thorkell answered, and I frowned. Taking the offensive put me in an awkward spot. They had enough ships to blockade whatever island we stayed on, but that was only if they focused on us. I was confident that we could break out of the blockade, but against such numbers, it would be messy.
“Have Hoffer take our longships to greet them. He'll harass them on their approach and keep a portion out of the noose the commander is trying to slip around our necks,” I instructed. “Meanwhile, fortify the village. I don't expect them to attack it, but I didn't expect them to attack us in the first place.”
“And our other ships?” Thorkell questioned as we had taken a number of Abbasid warships with us. They were significantly slower than our longships, but they didn't have the weakness that our longships had -- they sat higher in the water. Attacking elevated ships from a lower position gave the defenders a dangerous advantage. Thus, it was decided that our longships would be used to harass the enemy, while the warships would be how we fought them.
“Use them as bait,” I decided, having no real attachment to them. “If we lose them, then the ships we take from the Umayyads will more than make up for it.”
“I like the sound of it. By your leave, then,” Thorkell said, leaving me alone on the shore as I continued to gaze out at Hispania. I could feel it in my gut that somewhere in that land was the rose that I sought. The final piece of the puzzle that would allow me to reforge the blade at my hip.
A thousand ships or not, they wouldn't get in my way, and I wouldn't stop plundering the nation until I found it.
…
Hoffer sailed out with twenty ships, greeting the Umayyads with arrows. Sadly, Tatzates hadn't secured the recipe for Greek Fire as of yet, though he did assure me he was close. I wasn't sure if I believed him, so I had steadily increased the pressure to help motivate him. Though, even if I did have it, I couldn't have used it here. Not without inviting questions from Irene. Ideally, she'd only learn that I had Greek Fire when she heard tales of it when I was back in Denmark.
Meanwhile, the rest of my army secured our position. And it was a sight to behold.
A year was enough time to turn boys and girls into men and women. To turn green novices into experienced warriors. My army had undergone significant changes in preparation for this attack as well as to compensate for the lack of expected veteran warriors. The core of my army was still the three thousand veterans that had first sailed with me. Who had won their arms and armor in Norway, then in Greece, and then in Crete.
Our numbers were bolstered by mercenaries that flocked to my banner in the aftermath of Ravenfeast, bringing us to five thousand. I only took those who had met my expectations and standards, which were precious few in comparison to the number of those who wished to join me. However, in the past year, another change had been implemented.
Just as I trained the young of my people, I started to accept the young orphans of both Roman and Abbasid descent. The decision was made after a remark from Jasmine, who had in turn heard the remark from Otto about the hardships orphans faced. The lack of kin not only made surviving childhood difficult, but it greatly reduced the possibilities a child might otherwise have. Often times it wasn't enough to have talent for a trade -- it required connections to earn such an apprenticeship.
We began to take them in, guiding them and training them along our own path. I expected the majority to stay behind, and it was they that I hoped would become the core of Hoffer's army.
The results spoke for themselves as my army swelled to ten thousand strong. Of the five thousand recruits we possessed, only a thousand had earned their arms and armor, but it was during this campaign that the rest hoped to become full members of the mercenary company.
Now, as they fortified the village that we commandeered, I saw their training in action. They chopped down trees, dug trenches, stacked rocks, or littered them over a field to make walking in a formation difficult. Within hours, overseen and directed by my team of engineers, the village became a small fort with a palisade. It was exactly what I had envisioned when I sought to replicate the ability of Roman engineers, who were as much the reason for so many Roman victories as their armies were.
The work was completed just as the Umayyad ships arrived on the horizon. My longships did their job well, harrying them with arrows and javelins but never drifting too close. Yet, it was as they began to near the island that I realized something was afoot.
“... what is that man doing?” I repeated, watching as the Umayyads fleet fan out, yet still sail directly for us. Towards the island.
“Looks like they're going to disembark,” Athrun said, gazing out at the mass of ships. He didn't need his sharp vision to see that much. I could see that much.
The news was no less bewildering to hear it from someone else. “... Here?” I stressed, looking at the beach before the fort. Which was inhabited by my army. Who could, quite easily, contest any landing. Not to mention that the beach front was hardly large enough to land a thousand ships at once. Being exceptionally generous, it could land perhaps two hundred.
There were two other landing points nearby that could handle the level of disembarkment that the Umayyads were trying to accomplish for some inane reason. One of which I had placed my warships to bait them into dividing their attention to seize them. Only they weren't trying to land nearby. They were trying to land on every single beachfront on the island.
Assuming that every ship had as little as ten men, then we faced a force of ten thousand. Assuming there were as many as a hundred, then we faced a force of a hundred thousand strong. Both estimations were opposite extremes, so I would assume that it was somewhere in the middle. Which still put their numbers in the tens of thousands.
“This is…” I trailed off, not even sure what to make of it. It was the stupidest thing I had ever seen. Bar none. Yet, it was so stupid that it might have looped around to being brilliant. “They intend to crush us with sheer numbers.”
No grand strategy. No thoughts. Just shoving thousands of men in our direction until we grew exhausted killing them all. It was nothing less than horrific simplicity. And I still couldn't tell if the commander was a genius or an idiot.
Because he had effectively tied my hands. I had to contest the landings. Even if they were just fishermen and farmers, assuming my estimation was in the middle, that was still fifty thousand men bearing down on us. If I didn't stop them from landing, then we would get overwhelmed. By forcing me to garrison every landing point, I would spread my forces thin. Too thin. No hope of reinforcements or rest.
Yet, if I didn't, I would be allowing a significantly larger force to land where they would then overwhelm us. Even assuming victory, I would take unacceptable losses that would kill any thought of further raiding in the cradle. I had to stop them from landing.
Or… did I?
“We feint,” I decided, watching as the Umayyads sent a veritable wave of fishing vessels directly towards us. Intent on tying us down first and foremost while the rest of the fleet started to sail inward.
“Meaning?” Athrun questioned and I smiled.
“We don't fight them at all,” I said, deciding to kill the plan. I began to give out orders with an arrow with a burning rag tied to it was shot in the direction of Hoffer. He would know what it meant, even if he didn't understand why. His ships broke off, retreating to another one of the islands while the Umayyad noose closed in.
The fishing ships arrived first, and in them were well-equipped men. Career soldiers. They deftly disembarked as fast as they possibly could, even under the hail of arrows. There were hundreds of them. And their lives were utterly thrown away either in a pathetic waste or a clever tactic to delay us. To keep us tied up.
The act of disembarking wasn't a simple one. As part of the training, my men had practiced the maneuver because an army was vulnerable in the time between they were on ships and on ground. But, even with rigorous training, disembarking ten thousand men took no less than two hours. And that was a speed that even Olek was satisfied with. To disembark with a thousand ships? With men that weren't truly trained?
It was a mess. An absolute slog. It was disorganized chaos of the highest order.
And, it was then that we did the last thing that the Umayyads expected.
We left.
We boarded the warships and left the island behind, heading to its neighbor -- the much larger island some fifty miles away. All under the cover of darkness, simply vanishing into the night. The Umayyads were unaware at first. Then when they were aware, they assumed we retreated inland in preparation for a battle. The whole mess was so disastrous that it took them three days to form up into a cohesive army that scoured the land for any sign of us.
It was then that we revealed ourselves, pouncing where they were weakest.
Their ships. They were hardly unguarded, of course. They just weren't prepared for an all-out assault on their rear when they thought their enemy was before them. The result was us stealing a significant portion of their fleet, burning what we couldn't take with us, and simply bringing it all back to a town called Palma.
Effectively leaving what turned out to be thirty thousand men stranded on an island. A better army would have been able to survive such a development, but the army amassed was hardly one in the first place. When they learned that they were stranded, they collapsed. Some tried swimming back to the mainland or to Palma, but given the number of bodies that washed up on the shore, few made the trip.
The vast majority, however, simply dissolved as an army. When we sailed by them to check what happened, I found entirely new villages dotting the shoreline. They called out to us, asking for a trip to Palma or the mainland or for food, nails, and timber. And, when we obliged, I found that the entire affair amounted to moving thirty thousand people to an island that many were content to stay on on the condition that they brought their families.
No surrender was given. None was asked for. The ones responsible for the whole mess had apparently drowned trying to swim back to Hispania. Leaving me with a densely populated island, a grand fleet of over a thousand ships, and a coastline that was almost entirely undefended.
And I still had no idea if I had defeated an excellent tactician who thought well outside the box or a bumbling idiot who genuinely had absolutely no idea what he was doing.
Yet, whether he was a fool or a genius, the only one to come closer to defeating me was Roland on the field of battle. So, I would remember the unnamed commander for that, if nothing else.
…
Regardless of the tactical decision's merits, the aftermath revealed it to be a blunder of the highest order. The Umayyads’ coastline was left exposed well beyond my earliest expectations. I had expected it to take time to chip away at their fleet in a series of battles and ambushes, the entire process taking at least a month. Instead, the fleet was dealt with in about three days with the mainland completely ignorant of the disaster they suffered.
So, I painstakingly informed them.
Hispania’s coastline was savaged in a way that I had difficulties describing. We pounced upon it like wolves that found their way into a chicken coop, plundering and marauding endlessly. I maintained the strict discipline that I had imposed since coming to these lands -- no rape. Those who surrendered went unharmed. Every piece of loot taken was put into a single spot with shares given out. In comparison to what it could have been, our rampaging was relatively bloodless. How we ravaged the coastline was that we made the Umyyads bleed silver and gold in such volume it was as if we had severed an artery.
Barcelona was the first city that fell to us. An ancient city by any stretch of the imagination, it was plundered for everything that it was worth -- spices, textiles, pottery, dyes, foodstuffs, and more. Everything that had value was loaded onto our ships that were forced to make no less than six trips back and forth to Palma. If my soldiers were disappointed that there was no true battle with the Umyyads, then the spoils more than made up for it.
With Barcelona alone, the raid was successful. Yet, Barcelona was merely the beginning.
Tarragona was next, and it was then that it started to dawn upon me the sheer magnitude of the prize that was before me. I knew that Hispania was a rich region. Exceptionally so. I knew it, but I didn’t understand. At least not until the city was taken virtually without a fight. It was there that I found silver that didn’t measure in the hundreds of pounds, but the thousands. Mines from the surrounding areas flowed to the city on the coast, likely stockpiled to pay the wages of soldiers.
The city was plundered over the course of days as we seized everything of worth, particularly silversmiths and other artisans. They were all offered the same arrangement as the craftsmen taken from the Abbasids: enslavement and freedom upon passing on their techniques and knowledge to students.
After Tarragona, the raid was not only a success but one so great that it was worthy of a Runestone. A tale that fathers would pass on to their descendants of how they took part in a great raid, and one day, their grandchildren would tell the story to their grandchildren with pride. With how the shares were divided, every warrior in my army could retire after purchasing a plot of land to spend the rest of their life tilling.
Yet, we did not stop at Tarragona.
Valencia fell to us next. Followed by the town of Albacete up a river called Jucar. The former was every bit as rich as Tarragona had been, with protests starting to come from Palma, saying that they were running out of room to store all of the treasures taken. So, we began to break down the cities themselves to send them building supplies, using the stolen ships to great effect until there was almost a land bridge of ships flowing to and from the outpost.
Alacant fell next, followed by Murcia, which was up the Segura river. It was at that point we were compelled to expand the type of thralls that we took, including general laborers to man the ships and haul the boundless treasures. In a matter of weeks, Palma went from being a modest town to a budding city.
When we arrived at the city of Cartagena, we saw Abd al-Rahman's first response. Word spread of our arrival and our exploits, leaving villages fleeing from us while the bare-bones garrison forces made to head us off. But after a decisive victory on the field against a smaller and ill-equipped army, we were left unopposed in the depths of his kingdom.
It was then that he made a choice. A ruthless decision that he had to make, simply because the Umayyad Caliph had no good choices to pick from. He could divide his army and march south in the hopes of cutting me off… or he could maintain his strength in the north and prepare for Charlemagne’s assault. After a messenger tried to pay me off to simply leave his lands, an offer I rejected simply because unless he gave me the kingdom itself, he couldn’t protect it from me… he made his decision.
Abd al-Rahman decided to stay in the north, leaving the south to be ravaged in the hopes that after he defeated Charlemagne, he could sweep down and defend it. The loss of wealth, skilled craftsmen, and able administrators would be painful. Recovery would be long. And, in all likelihood, the Caliphate would be hobbled for a generation before they could hope to recover. Yet, even that was a better fate than being conquered, if only barely.
The end result was that Almeria, Malaga, and Marabella all swiftly fell to me in rapid succession. All the while, I used the rivers of Hispania to great avail, plundering the inner landmass and the river-based villages and towns. Over the course of two and a half months, the Great Raid of Hispania, as some had taken to calling it, reached Algeciras, and more importantly, the only true opening to the Mediterranean Sea.
The Gibraltar Straight.
Beyond it, I knew, lay the great sea. An endless ocean that was undoubtedly the sea that Jormungand dwelled beneath. Some part of it called out to me, compelling me to set sail merely to see what lay beyond the horizon. Perhaps in another life I might have done exactly that, but my interests didn’t lay in that direction.
My interests lay northward.
…
“If they’re going to mount any kind of significant defense, it’s going to be at Cordoba,” I voiced on top of a horse as my army marched forward. “It’s their capital,” I said, watching as my army marched inland. Away from the coast and the rivers. “Though, the bulk of their forces lay at the Pyrenees mountains.”
Abd al-Rahman had been scraping the barrel with the fleet. There were still plenty of people in Hispania, but you could only mobilize so many of the menfolk before you encountered difficulties like having no one to sow the fields, reap the harvest or to perform the various other tasks necessary for a kingdom to function.
“Feel comfortable betting it all on that?” Thorkell asked me as we marched with my army. My scouts looked far and wide for any sign of resistance while my men marched in a long column. Our ships remained in Algeciras with a small garrison. Enough to safeguard them, but not enough to diminish our strength overly much. “We have a hundred times the point of having enough. Raids work best when you're hitting them fast and getting out faster.”
I knew that. Perhaps it was simply greed. The flower was somewhere in this kingdom, but in the two months we raided, every lead I had pursued turned out to be false. Risking a march inland would be less of a raid and more of an invasion. It wasn't even that I was softening up the south for the Abbasid invasion that was just now starting to mobilize - I would be doing it myself.
“Aye, we do,” I admitted. I had plundered enough from the Umayyads that I could build new cities on the Balearic Islands if I felt like it. Enough silver and gold that I could probably just buy a kingdom. “But this is a rare opportunity. Our time in the Mediterranean nears its end. The cities of this kingdom are undefended, and any spoils that we take are spoils that shall be denied Charlemagne.”
“I'm not arguing that it's a solid idea. I'm asking if it's worth the risk,” Thorkell repeated, and to that…
“I suppose it depends on if I find what I'm looking for,” I admitted. To that, Thorkell shrugged, accepting the answer and trusting that I knew what I was doing. And given the success so far, I had more than earned that trust.
Our march was quick, though not nearly as fast as it had been with our ships. The Umayyads provided our baggage train, and the food we stole sustained us as we marched inland. Each day, we made camp and built a fortification to dwell in, and each time we did it, the process became a little easier, a little smoother.
Despite my confidence, I did expect some degree of resistance as we made our way to the capital, but it never manifested. At least not in any meaningful way. There was the occasional skirmish with our scouts, but those were with independent actors who were motivated out of fear for their villages rather than any united army. In a way, it was almost a disappointment when we arrived at Cordoba, spying the city in the distance. Less than a day's march away.
There was no army to bar our way. There was, however, a messenger.
“I greet you in the glorious name of Hisham Al-Reda ibn Abd ar-Rahman,” the messenger announced, seated upon a horse as he attempted to keep fear off of his face. “Heir to the Caliphate! In his name, he invites you to negotiate terms of peace between our peoples.”
Hisham, the heir to the throne but a fully grown man in his own right. I knew less of him than I did his father. “Is that so?”
The messenger's horse shifted as the man tensed. “It is true. His eminence has invited you to the royal palace, along with a contingent of guards. He also offers his son Abu al-As al-Hakam, as a hostage, should you doubt his word.”
I did more than just doubt his word. I had rampaged across his father's kingdom, paved the way for an invasion… I would be genuinely shocked if the man wasn't willing to accept the death of his son merely to kill me in an act of vengeance.
“The offer is welcomed, but I am afraid I cannot accept an invitation to the royal palace,” I said, and the refusal didn't seem to surprise the messenger. “However, I am open to meeting the esteemed Hisham Al-Reda upon a neutral ground outside of the city. I shall leave my army where it is, ten miles from Cordoba, as a gesture of good faith.” I said, placing a hand upon my arm ring as I made the oath, but I doubt he understood the gesture.
The messenger nodded his head, taking my answer to Cordoba.
“What's the point?” Thorkell asked me as we watched him go.
“I want to see what they have to say,” I admitted. I had already refused one danegeld already. I doubted they could offer me more than I could take from them if I truly wished it. However, I did have an inkling what exactly they wished to talk to me about beyond begging me to stop raiding their cities.
The answer came swiftly -- Hisham agreed to meet five miles outside of the city, dead in the center, to return the gesture of good faith. A pavilion was swiftly erected, servants in attendance, and a contingent of guards kept at a polite distance away. Given that the location was set in the middle of a field, with no obstructions in any direction, the act told me that Hisham was cautious but eager to negotiate.
I decided to respond in kind, wearing clothing instead of armor with only my sword at my belt. A contingent of fifty warriors followed me to the negotiation.
It was there that I met Hisham, a man in his late twenties to early thirties. He had dark skin and a bushy beard, but he wore rather simple clothing. He almost seemed out of place when he was flanked by two others wearing yards of silk and jewels.
Hisham: Patient. Calm. Kind.
His traits marked him as someone trustworthy, though True Vision marked him as an enemy. That I was willing to accept in good faith. If someone had done to me as I had done to his kingdom, I'd hate them too. There was an anger lurking in his eyes, but it was restrained.
“Lord Siegfried the Wolf-Kissed. Your reputation is well deserved,” Hisham greeted me as I took a seat on an offered chair. His voice was without warmth. “What you have done… I suppose it is an accomplishment.”
“You do not have to force yourself, Prince Hisham,” I told him. “I am well aware of what I have done. Don't force yourself to offer platitudes we both know you don't mean.”
To that, Hisham held my gaze for a moment before he inclined his head to me. “Then I shall speak plainly,” he said, snapping a finger. In response, slaves began to march forward, working in teams to carry heavy chests to the center of the pavilion. Then, without a word, they began to dump the contents upon the colorful rug.
Gold and silver began to spill out, joined together with precious jewels -- rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and diamonds. They came in the form of coins, candlesticks, artifacts, and more. Then, as soon as the first chest was empty, a second chest was dumped. Then a third. A fourth. A fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, and ninth. The servants only stopped coming after the tenth chest was dumped out, creating a pile of treasure. A hoard worthy of a king.
There was a time when I would have been awed by the sight -- dumbfounded. My jaw would have gone slack, and I would have been left staring at the treasure with naked disbelief.
Instead, I merely raised an eyebrow in Hisham's direction, silently asking for an explanation.
He obliged me, “Cease your invasion, Lord Siegfried. Do so, and you shall receive a hundred mules, each laden with a chest filled just as you witnessed now. They shall be sent to you in Algeciras, where you shall remain until their arrival. Upon receiving the sum, you shall leave our lands and never return. So I shall have you swear to your gods and to Allah.”
I gazed down at the pile of treasure. All of it the finest quality. It had spread out a bit, but sitting down, it came up to my chest. A hundred more of that…
What an outrageously wealthy kingdom. It honestly was bewildering that they had so much wealth still left over because I could tell he was being honest. It clued me into what the prince had done. While I had raided his eastern and southern coast, he drew from his western and northern provinces. Likely securing enough wealth to pay me off, or failing that, an army.
I could see his plan: He would stop me with the negotiations, allowing him enough time to muster up another army to drive me off if needed. But paying me off was the preferred method since they were very much aware of their predicament and had no interest in adding my name to their list of enemies.
I stood up, making the guards still, their hands going to their weapons. I ignored them as Hisham held them at bay with a gesture, watching me like a vicious snake. Taking a step forward, the gold, silver, and jewels shifted underfoot as I climbed to the top of the pile. There was a heavy silence as they watched me brush it aside, but I could sense their ill-disguised disgust. They thought I was mocking them.
I was looking for something. I tossed aside precious gemstones, tales of gold and silver, even crowns and jelwery. They didn't hold my interest. What did, however, was a book. It was near the bottom of the pile as I caught sight of it during the second chest. It was thick and heavy, likely only added as it was covered in gold and gemstones. Undoing the golden gilded latch, I flipped the tome open to find something between the pages.
A pressed rose. It shone gold to True Vision, and a wide smile spread across my face. “What a treasure you have given me,” I said, running a finger over the rose. It was pressed down, flattened for I could only guess how long, yet the stem remained a vibrant green, and the pedals a brilliant red. Even before my very eyes, it seemed to recover from being a forgotten bookmark. “What a treasure indeed!”
Hisham seemed genuinely perplexed that even as I stood upon a hoard of gold, silver, and gemstones, the only thing that had my attention was a dusty old book. “Do we have an agreement?”
“I shall accept your terms for peace,” I agreed readily, already having what I wanted. A hundred chests of treasure was just an added bonus. I looked down at Hisham, in a genuine good mood and an unconquerable smile upon my face. “Now… shall we discuss the price to hire my services?”
Hisham's expression revealed a naked need, and I almost felt bad for the man, especially since I didn't intend to sell my army to him to use against the enemy he wished to wield it against.
In the end, I had upheld my end of the bargain. I raided throughout the Umayyad Caliphate. And now I intend to return to my homeland by this time next year. Any leverage that Charlemagne had upon me had vanished like smoke in the wind.
It was time that the Frankish King learned he could not make demands of me.
Comments
TwoJacksAndAnAce
Can’t wait for when Seig goes home.
Enjou
The flower itself may not be important, but rather the book it's in. As for what his Hisham wanted, definitely for him to go against the Abbasids, but instead he'll probably end up being paid to do something against Charlemagne. Raid his coast or supply lines, attack his army, or whatever would distract Charlemagne's efforts.
Empty Shelf
Rest In Peace, Unnamed Enemy Commander. As the saying goes: "The distance between insanity and genius is measured only by success." Also, I love the idea of Siegfried going full Grinch mode and literally stripping a city to its foundation. Having so much loot that you need to take the buildings with you just to have some place to put it all is quite the problem to have.
Hector Gregorio
Supersword won
Endymion2314
I'm wondering if it's not the Rose itself, but the page that was bookmarked which is important. Sieg is dealing with a broken sword, what if the page details the instruction of how to properly repair it.
Enjou
I was cackling like mad reading this. The enemy commander's gambit wasn't actually bad in the sense that he'd have lost no matter what, and if Siegfried hadn't thought outside of the box himself he'd have lost. But he did, so he didn't, and now the gold and silver flowing into his coffers is astounding. Plus he gets what he was looking for! Very nice.
Mr Mouse
While it felt like it could have been expanded a bit, the accidental migration of the Ummayad Navy was just excellent, pure 'Idiot or genius? Depends, did it work?' That being said, I was left fairly confused about two things; One, the flower, on which I am utterly lost as to it's purpose, it's history, how he knew it was in the chest, the whole shebang. That being said, I have faith either it will be explained, or it has been explained and I've missed it. Second tho', is the ending about 'Not intending to sell my army to him to use against the enemy he wished to wield it against'. If I'm reading it correctly, he is intending to fuck up Charlie's forces in the north, which would mean the army Hisham wished him to fight is the Abbasid Invasion that has only just started to mobilize, and therefore a lesser threat? I doubt he intends to betray his brother in law, but I'm struggling to see the throughline for Hisham to feel disappointed? If I could get a little clarification, that'd be grand, please and thank you
XeneWarf
Thanks for another great chapter. they always make my day.
blackshadow111
It should really be called Qurtubah instead of Cordoba.
