IdeasGuy
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Legends Never Die: Recognition (ch. 81)
🕑 Added 2024-05-01 14:59:44 +0000 UTC“A truce?” I echoed upon hearing the news, two weeks after Gerald had set sail for Denmark and Norway. A full month since we raided up and down the coast. I scratched at my bearded chin, my gaze flickering over to Astrid and Jill, while Michalis sat across from me. Like each time I saw him, he was dressed richer than before -- he had started wearing thick golden rings around each finger, his clothing was adorned with gold and silver.
I was likely very close to completing his quest. All except for destroying everyone who had stolen his families lands from him. Mostly on account of the fact that I haven't taken any action against Strategos Michael. It would be nice to get a Diplomacy perk.
Michalis nodded, “The truce was called for after the battle, but it took weeks to come to terms both sides would agree to. Those terms are a withdrawal for the Abbasids, and forbidding any military action against each other for the duration of a year.”
Out of the corner of my expanded vision, I saw Jasmine listening in, hidden away behind a pillar while Alim translated our words in a whisper into her ear. I glanced down at my cup of mead -- something that had become exceptionally valuable now that we drank most of it and lacked the means to make more. “So, they’ll each take a breath and prepare for another bout?” I ventured, mulling over the news. I would have preferred a more decisive treaty that, hopefully, would have covered the length of my stay.
“Essentially, yes. I've heard that Caliph Al-Mhadi has taken a grievous wound that may see the young Prince Harun on the throne sooner rather than later,” Michalis informed and I heard a soft gasp from Princess Jasmine as she heard the news. “I suspect that they want to secure the succession and upon his ascension to the throne, resume the campaign against us.”
Annoying.
I could have had the Caliph as a hostage.
I brushed aside my annoyance with what was becoming practiced ease. “And the noble hostages?” I questioned, wondering why exactly I haven't received instructions. To that, Michalis winced ever so slightly.
“The lesser nobles that you have collected are to be released back to the Abbasids. Without ransom in a prisoner exchange,” He answered and I did nothing more than hum. That was insulting. They were my captives and I cared very little for the fool Romans that got themselves captured. I also suppose that explained why Michalis was the one delivering the news. “However, the Abbasids didn't manage to capture any noble of equal standing to Princess Jasmine. To that end… she will stay in Norland. With you.”
I swallowed a sigh, understanding the news for what it was. “They use me to insult the Abbasids,” I said, unsurprised but still quite annoyed.
“I believe so, yes. I know your nature, Lord Siegfried, but to others… your reputation is…” he trailed off, reluctant to even repeat what he had heard. I waved him off, already knowing that much.
I was powerful but not well liked by the Romans. Which suited me fine. I didn't much like the Romans either. “Do they intend to use me to provoke the Abbasids to war?” I questioned, knowing that Prince Harun, soon to be Caliph Harun, was close to his sister.
The game they played was a simple one to figure out. I was a barbarian to these people -- not just to the Romans, but to the Abbasids as well. With their Princess in my custody, their imaginations would get the better of them, and they would seek to free her from my wicked grasp. An attack, an assassination, or an attempt to free Princess Jasmine at all would be a violation of the truce. The Romans would shake their swords, either using it as a pretense to resume the war before the Abbasids were truly ready or to get greater concessions from them.
Because, from the sound of it, the truce favored the Romans.
To that, Michalis offered a less than helpful shrug. “That, I do not know for certain. But you will have the opportunity to find out -- your deeds have been noticed and acclaimed. I come here with an invitation to celebrate Rome's victories over our enemies.” I fought off a frown when I heard that.
I could see Irene’s plan. She wished to elevate me over the generals to prevent them from rising any higher. Which would paint a rather large target on my back, making most of the Roman military feel slighted by having a Pagan barbarian honored over them. Well, I doubt that I could make them hate me any more than they already did.
Perhaps I should make it clear to the Emperor Mother that if Romans attack me, I will consider it a breach in contract. I'm sure the Abbadids would be all too happy to unleash me on Rome now that they knew the bite of my fangs.
“You are to be given accommodations and a gift -- You shall be acknowledged as nobility, and Crete will be recognized as your fief for a period of five years.” Michalis said, and that did catch my interest. The latter part more than the former. The Romans acknowledging me as nobility would open some doors, but most would still remain closed. Crete being recognized as my fief did expand my options however.
Up until this point, my legal authority ended at the walls of Norland. However, with this, I could settle villages. I could set and collect taxes. I could levy soldiers from the population, as small as it was.
It would be unbinding my hands.
I glanced over at Jill, who met my gaze with a small nod. She approved. Astrid was currently dozing off, her hands on her rounding stomach, so she missed my glance entirely.
“Very well. I will accept this invitation and honors,” I said, and with it, I realized I would need to create heraldry for myself. And my house.
It wasn't the art project that I imagined, but I had some ideas.
…
It was decided that I would sail to Constantinople alone, save a few guards. Astrid wasn't well enough to travel, and while she bore her pregnancy well, she had been increasingly snappish. Putting her in with a bunch of Romans was a recipe for disaster. Because Astrid was staying, Jill was staying. She seemed sorry to miss it, but Astrid was more important.
So, I sailed back to Constantinople once more to find it celebrating. Only unlike before, upon my arrival, I was escorted up to the imperial palace where I was given a room and an itinerary, as the servant called it. The next day, I would be paraded through the streets alongside the Strategos that had earned themselves some glory. Tatzates and Michael. After we were paraded through the city, we would arrive at the imperial palace once more where we would receive our honors from the ‘Emperor.’
It sounded like a bunch of needless pomp and pageantry, so I wasn't particularly excited as I settled into my quarters -- a lavishly decorated room with engraved furniture, feathered bed with silk sheets, a trunk marked with gold and silver, and a large disk of polished bronze. I set my sword and axe near the bed before throwing myself upon it.
I hadn't been summoned by Irene. I couldn't tell if that was a good thing or not. I should still have her favor. More so now that I had proven myself despite the odds stacked against me. Though, the fact that the Roman generals failed to secure a decisive victory could be held against me. It was a rather irritating thought.
If it was a good thing, then I expected that Irene would meet with me privately for whatever she wanted me to do next. With a tenuous peace with the Abbadids, the Romans had other enemies to set me upon.
The Bulgars were likely. To my knowledge, there wasn't an open war between the nations but there were frequent raids on both sides. Hopefully, I would see some fighting there. It would be a good place to blood my fresh recruits when they arrive-
I heard a shuffling near the window that I was careful not to react to. My mind must have wandered for some time because I noticed that it was dark outside. Someone was sneaking into my room in the middle of the night. Everything was dark, and my eyes had yet to adjust to it, so I slipped into True Sight to see-
“Morrigan?!” I half yelped, seeing her figure wreathed in gold. My reaction surprised her enough that she almost fell out of the window that she had been climbing through. It was her. She seemed haggard and tired, but it was her.
“Do not startle me so, fool! I thought you were sleeping,” Morrigan grumbled, slipping inside. And if there was any doubt that it was her, it was gone then.
“You were the one sneaking into my quarters,” I pointed out, getting out of the bed. If Morrigan felt like I had a point on who was startling who, she didn't show it. I let out a breath, a weight on my shoulders lifting. “Where have you been, Morrigan? It's been a month since you vanished into thin air!” I whispered fiercely, not wanting to announce her presence to the palace but still rather cross with her.
To my surprise, she did wince ever so slightly as she crossed the threshold, taking a seat on the bed. Her attention went to the axe leaning against it. “You and Jill were married? I suppose you didn't miss me desperately enough to wait.” There was an odd note in her voice. A strangled emotion that I couldn't decipher.
I swallowed a retort, “It happened during the celebration of our victories. Which you would have know had you not vanished into thin air,” I stressed and I did see a flickering of guilt pass over Morrigan's face at that. “We have been worried sick. Where have you been? Your note said it would be a couple of days.”
Morrigan's golden eyes flashed, ready to get defensive, but she instead sighed. “I only intended for it to be a few days. But, what I discovered… I decided that it deserved more of an investigation.” She began, sounding as sorry as I had ever heard. She would never say the words, I knew, so this was as much as I could expect. “I traveled to the battlefield in Anatolia. Where the truce was made.” Now there was a tired smirk in her voice.
My browser furrowed, “What did you see?”
Now Morrigan openly smirked, “I saw a most intriguing connection between Caliph Al-Mhadi and Tatzates. They conspire together. Or, at least they did. Enough for Caliph Al-Mhadi to feel betrayed by Tatzates.” She explained and I went still.
I knew Tatzates was playing both sides. I had no proof that he was behind how easily Anatolia had been ravaged to disgrace his rival Michael, but I strongly suspected it. However, if Tatzates was working directly with the Caliph… that was a very different betrayal.
“Do you have proof?” I asked, taking a seat next to her on the bed, my mind racing.
“Not in so many words, no,” Morrigan admitted, and that was regrettable. “I have uncovered a string of the conspiracy. Of which, a familiar face took part. Zafir. He was one of the points of contact between Tatzates and the Caliph.” She informed and, without proof, it would be difficult to get Irene to believe the conspiracy-
But do I need her to believe it?
An intrigued expression appeared upon Morrigan's face, “You have a plan.”
“I have a gamble,” I said, reaching out and patting her hand with mine. “A good one. Thank you for this, Morrigan… but do not do this again.” I chastised her, my grip tightening ever so slightly. “I trusted that you would come back, but when days turned into weeks…”
Morrigan looked away, “T'was important information that I gathered. I thought it necessary,” she replied.
“It is. It was,” I agreed. The information was very valuable. I just… “There is no one I trust more to survive on their own, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to worry.” I admitted, and I felt a pull in my gut.
I wasn't entirely certain what it was at first until I felt the Prestige leaving me and flowing into Morrigan. I hadn't intended to bestow a Blessing, but it flowed all the same. A great deal more than what it took to bestow the first blessing -- twice as much, more or less. Morrigan closed her eyes, her breathing hitching as she seemed to feel the blessing taking shape.
Skinchanger:
With bonded animals, the user can slip into their bodies -- controlling them as if they were the user’s body. The greater the bond, the easier it is to skinchange into the animal. The greater the skill the user has, the more animals they can control at once.
Morrigan’s eyes fluttered open, her golden meeting my blue for a long moment, neither of us saying a word.
Then, with a lunge, Morrigan threw herself at me, kissing me with enough force that I tasted blood.
After that, the room was everything but silent.
…
The next morning came far too swiftly for my liking. Morrigan slumbered in the silk sheets, all the exhaustion of a month of travel hitting her at once. Myself -- my back was covered in scratches, and was fairly certain that at some point during the night Morrigan bit my neck, because it was tender and sore. All the same, I dressed myself and prepared for a long day ahead.
Morrigan was still sleeping when I left for the Triumph, armed with the information that she had given me. I left a few guards with her, just in case, before I found myself being ushered onto a chariot pulled by a dozen horses.
I was at the very front of the Triumph, and I could tell people were not happy about it. Most of all, the ones that were forced to ride behind me. The people of Constantinople, I found, were simply happy to have cause to celebrate.
They were told that Rome had won a great victory and they chose to believe it. So, the Triumph began at the gates of Constantinople, people lining the streets and cheering -- mostly for their own leaders, I knew, but they cheered all the same.
It was difficult for me to enjoy, I found as we were led through the streets in a long winding path to the palace. I constantly expected an arrow from the rooftops, or something, the entire time. Especially considering that I could physically feel the combined glares of Michael and Tatzates on my back as they rode directly behind me. So, for that reason, I felt some measure of relief when I caught sight of the palace -- a thirty minute walk taking several hours just to arrive in sight.
Even if the most dangerous part of the evening was rapidly approaching.
Before the palace, there was a veritable army of servants with a crowd of people to see us at the very end of the Triumph. I got off the chariot and my gaze turned to Tatzates. He had gotten fatter since the last time I saw him. He hid it behind yards of silk, all tailored to fit him, covered in jewels and gold. He kept his expression carefully blank, almost indifferent but True Sight revealed the truth.
He was dyed a vibrant and angry red.
So, I felt nothing resembling remorse when I slowed to speak to him, the army of servants ushering us forward. The cheering and the music would drown out our words, I was certain. I could see some suspicion in his gaze even as he plastered on a friendly smile while Michael deliberately gave us both a wide berth.
“I know,” I told Tatzates in a low voice, speaking slowly and deliberately so he could not misunderstand my words.
I could almost see his kind jumping to a conclusion, and I nodded, as if to confirm his suspicion. “As I understand it, he feels quite betrayed by you,” I said, keeping my words vague.
However, I spoke in Arabic so he couldn't possibly misunderstand.
He held his expression together, but I could see the panic starting to seep in as we made our way to the palace gates. He was thinking like a rat in a corner, trying to figure out a way out as much as he was trying to figure out how he was discovered.
Tatzates picked his lips, a nervous tell. “I don't know what you mean.”
“You do,” I replied and I could tell my confidence shook him. “You know exactly what I mean. Zafir didn't have much to say about you, but Alim -- the child that was always with him? He had a great deal to say.” I lied and I knew I had him. He kept it off of his face but I saw defeat in his body language and his eyes. All because of a small lie.
I had no proof of my accusations, but I didn't need any. The fact that I was confronting him made him believe that I had proof and that I knew about his betrayal. While I didn't think Tatzates was a particularly honorable creature, treason against the crown would be a heavy burden. A source of constant concern. An ever present risk of discovery that could lead to his destruction. Even now, I could all but see Tatzates planning to murder me to keep the secret a secret.
Yet, if push came to shove, I didn't have any proof to convince Irene of his treason. So, I would convince him that I wouldn't.
“I don't care,” I told him after a long tense moment. Doubt flickered over his face, so I continued. “I don't care about this empire. You can marry the Empress like you intend,” he stiffened and I swallowed a smile. “Or you can betray the Romans to the Abbasids. I don't care. I will spend a few years in this nation then return home. Its fate after I leave is well beyond my concern.”
The words were true, to a degree. I would certainly prefer it if things didn't descend into utter chaos. Especially while I was here to deal with the conflict. But, in the end, these were not my people. I didn't like them. They didn't like me. It would be a shame to see such an ancient empire collapse under its own stupidity, but I would take it as a lesson learnt -- no matter how brilliant the start of a nation had, with enough fools and ambitious men in charge, any nation could be felled.
Tatzates relaxed ever so slightly, “This would be quite the secret to be kept between friends. However can I express my gratitude?” He spoke flowery words, but his tone was wooden.
“Greek Fire. I desire the knowledge on how to make it,” I replied, knowing our time was short as we neared the double doors.
“That… is a high price, my friend. It was difficult merely obtaining the substance. Learning how it is produced…”
“You have until I leave for my homeland,” I told him, knowing that it was a tall order. The sooner he got it to me, the better, but it would be a great risk to produce it on Crete. I saw the substance in action and the Roman's guard for the secret was well deserved.
With that done, we finished just in time for the double doors to swing open and let us into the palace itself. The decorations were once again out in full force, but I found them interesting for very different reasons this time. The awe they inspired wasn't just because of how expensive they were, but for their craftsmanship. I had taken to wood carving and sculpting in my spare time, but I could admire the skill of which the vases, painting, tapestries, and more were made with.
It was a reminder that while I was a near peerless warrior, in terms of creation, I was less than a novice.
It was a strangely pleasing thought, I decided as I once more made my way to the throne room. The last time I had been here on an official occasion, the circumstances were very different. The doors swung open for me, and nobles lined the walls, standing or sitting at tables to welcome us. The nobles, I saw, were a uniform red. My being honored had tipped the scales for many of them, and I knew if they cheered or clapped, it was not for me.
However, I saw something of interest as I strode down the long hallway to the throne.
The Emperor was nowhere to be seen. Irene sat on the throne, wearing a regal dress and crown with scepter in hand.
She wasn't even pretending that her son was in charge, I realized, as she raised a hand. I came to a stop and the throne room became silent. She let it soak in for a long moment before speaking, “War has been made upon us by the Abbasids. First, they raided and raped through our heartland, hiding behind lies and excuses. Then, in their arrogance, they sought to conquer us! Rome! The empire of the world!”
The words weren't for me, I could tell. I didn't feel any surge of fondness for the country, but I did see Romans standing a bit taller.
“They had forgotten what we are! We are the conquerors of the world! We are the cradle of civilization! We are mighty!” She continued, her voice echoing out the hall and her words were punctuated with cheers of agreement. “We cast off these invaders and we paid back our injuries with blood! A dozen Abbasid settlements sacked. Their Caliph wounded, their heir dead, and a princess in our hands. Their armies sent retreating to their homes while thousands of them lay dead in the valley of Ravenfeast!”
I'm not entirely certain if True Sight was lying to me, I thought, seeing Irene was marked blue. A faint blue, to be certain, but she was trying very hard to get me killed for an apparent ally. She praised my accomplishments openly while not mentioning the accomplishments of any other. A point she was trying to make, I knew -- that I was the one who brought them these victories.
“Siegfried Erikson, step forward,” Irene said, and I did as bid. Her expression was a mask, I saw -- serene confidence but her eyes betrayed a dark amusement. I dropped to a knee, and I felt all eyes upon me. “You came to this land a stranger claiming to seek knowledge and wisdom, yet, it was you that served as Rome's greatest defender. With a mere five thousand men, you not only rebuffed an army five times the size of your own, but you slaughtered them in a single battle until you outnumbered their fleeing remnants.”
An exaggeration, but it made for a better story, I suppose. At least the truth would be recorded on the runestone.
Despite their dislike of me, there was some cheering. Less for me and more for the dead Abbasids, I suspected. Irene held up a hand, silencing them. “For your great deeds, Rome would see you rewarded. I ask that you stand, Lord Siegfried, noble of Rome. The island of Crete shall be bequeathed to you for a period of five years with the lands, tenants, and taxes belonging to you.” She announced and I had to swallow a laugh.
Crete was next to worthless to the Romans. Or, rather, it had been for a number of years. Its population was small. What the crown got from taxes was likely less than what was plundered by pirates. But, with the pirates gone, and with Norland becoming an important trade port, by the time I gave the island back… they were giving me stone and I would hand them back a statue.
That was the cue for two of my men to step forward. Turning to face the crowd of nobles, they unfurled a banner that was marked with the heraldry of my house. I saw flickers of distaste, annoyance, and quite a few that seemed vaguely interested as they saw my banner.
A two headed raven, each head looking a different direction to both the past and the future. Its black wings spread wide across a white background while one of its talons clutched an axe while the other clutched a sprig of mistletoe. The axe represented war. The mistletoe, while it had once killed Baldur, had since been made the symbol of peace and love by Freya. So no other may be slain by the seemingly harmless plant.
I expected no applause or cheering, but I didn't need any. This wasn't for them. This was for me.
This was undeniable proof that I had come a very long way since I was just a boy on a farm, ignorant of the world beyond its fields. I now stood thousands of miles from home, in one of the oldest and most powerful empires in the world, and I was recognized as nobility.
There was no reward from the gods for my deed, but I smiled as if I had received one anyway.
Comments
RegalMania
I can't help but imagine the double-headed raven as something very similar, if not exactly, to the Imperial Aquila in Warhammer 40k.
Templar9999
While the recipe for Roman napalm will certainly be useful long term, it also gives Morrigan time to develop an actual information ring. When the traitor inevitably tries to kill the MC, the evidence the empress needed will be literally delivered by a raven. Beyond that, by acknowledging a pagan as a noble of Rome, even if his land returns to the crown soon, the empress has set a precedent. One that will likely see much of the still pagan Germanic peoples flock to the empire searching for glory in their own right. A Varangian army firmly under her influence. She is also likely counting on the MC to remove the remaining thorns in her side over the next 5 years. As they all inevitably move against him.
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