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Legends Never Die: Blood Debts (ch. 29)
🕑 Added 2023-03-01 15:59:09 +0000 UTCWas this intentional? It was my first thought as the plum of dust drifted upwards, the tunnel completely collapsing as far as I could tell. My mind raced, a thousand different thoughts running through my brain as I gazed at the collapsed tunnel, my jaw was slack with shock and I was frozen with indecision. Perhaps it was arrogant to assume that someone was willing to kill upward of a thousand men just to kill me, but it sure felt like an assassination attempt. Grimar? King Widukind?
King Widukind didn’t make sense. I knew he wanted to use me and he wouldn’t waste men like this in an assassination attempt. Not when he was in the middle of a war in which he was already outnumbered at the start. Grimar seemed more likely but I’m not sure how he would have managed this. He was the first one through the tunnel, a deadly position to be in. Had the tunnel just collapsed because people weren’t careful when they ran through it? Did the last of the work digging the tunnel out make it collapse?
“Siegfried!” Thorkell shouted at me, an arrow thumping into a wood post next to him, a stark reminder that our retreat wasn’t just cut off. It was cut off and we were surrounded by Franks. My gaze snapped to him to see that his expression was stern, but desperation shone in his eyes. He understood how dangerous our position was even better than I did. And he was looking to me for guidance.
“I-” I started, looking out at the Franks to see that they were incoming. Our position was well fortified but we were already feeling the full weight of the Franks that were coming to bear on the palisades. The collapse of our retreat sent a shockwave in the morale of our men and I saw that they were openly wearing expressions of despair and fear even as they fought. The only reason why they weren’t running was that there was nowhere to run.
I had never been in this position before, I realized. A position where a single wrong move would lead me to absolute destruction. I was trapped and there was no way out. We were completely surrounded, the Franks were on the verge of overwhelming us, and… I didn’t know what to do. Fear shot cool chills down my spine because I didn’t know what to do. I was the one that wanted to look around and ask what should be done but I found everyone elses eyes on me. I-
Quest: Escape from Frankfurt
Bonus Objective: Escape with more than 50% of your men
Reward: 1 Boon perk.
My heart was pounding at my ribs, completely frozen with indecision, the pressure mounting on my shoulders as hundreds of lives hinged on the next decision that I made. I could feel everything that I had been working for and possessed slipping through my fingers like grains of sand. Just as everything looked to be its bleakest, the gods answered a prayer that I hadn’t even known that I gave. They gave me a quest that possessed the answer.
“We break through,” I spoke, a sense of confidence and certainty in my voice that I didn’t feel. My grip tightened on my weapons, I forced myself to control my breathing but I could do nothing about my pounding heart that was about to burst through my chest. “We aren’t fighting all of the Franks. We push through at a single point and make for the exit.”
Thorkell’s lips thinned at that, glancing at the Franks that were pressing down on us from every side now. We hadn’t bled them anywhere near enough before falling back to this position. Some of the Franks would be fighting outside of the city but the bulk of their army was inside of Frankfurt if that part of the plan had gone smoothly. “It won’t work,” Thorkell voiced, an odd note in his voice that I hadn’t heard before.
Reluctant acceptance.
“It will if some of the men cover our retreat,” I voiced, knowing what I was saying. It was as good as killing them myself. Anyone that stayed behind, with these numbers, were going to be killed. I didn’t know if even I could withstand such an onslaught. I fought better than most but it wouldn’t even matter. They just had to swarm me until I collapsed under the weight of their numbers. In response, Thorkell’s eyes hardened but I could see that he saw the merit from the god given plan. Even if he didn’t like it.
“The men are fighting now because they have no choice. Staying and fighting when an exit opens up is a tall order, Siegfried,” Thorkell told me, his voice low and grim. He was right about that.
There wasn’t a choice.
“You lead the men out of the city, Thorkell. I’ll stay behind and guard the rear,” I instructed, the indecision bleeding away from me. I knew what I had to do now. I had perks that would make a defensive battle stronger, but they wouldn’t magically win the battle for us. What it would do was make us last long enough to cover the retreat. After that, we could try to make a run for it but… I doubted that anyone would make it. I harbored doubts that I could make it. “Hug the wall and focus on a single path. Push through and don’t stop.”
There was no time for elaborate plans or even dramatic speeches. The battle was already well underway. I couldn’t shout louder than the screams of war -- of rage and death or the clashing of arms. There was no way I could collect volunteers to see who was willing to stay and who wasn’t. There was no right way to do this. There was only the smart way.
“Gods be with you, Siegfried. You aren’t destined to die here so make sure you don’t,” Thorkell stated, accepting the order. He saw that it was the only way to get out. Even if it meant we were sacrificing men to do it.
“I’ll see you soon enough, Thorkell,” I swore to him, clasping an offered forearm before I stepped away from the man to follow through on my end. The plan was overwhelmingly simple, so much so that it didn’t even require words to convey. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me when they weren’t fighting, expecting me to save them all or salvage the situation. It was a crushing weight to know that I couldn’t. Not for all of them.
Because they were looking at me, they would see what I did. The actions that I took. And those actions were to take a position at the front of the main entryway where I started killing. The men beside me took heart that I was standing with them, regardless if they were clueless on if there was a plan or not. They simply assumed that there was one and they were included into it.
It felt like a betrayal, I thought to myself, stabbing down at a Frank, catching him in the throat with a leaf-shaped spear. Blood spurted out with force and as soon as the blade struck true, I brought my arms back to stab back down again. The very worst kind of betrayal. The words wanted to leave my lips, the truth wanted to come out because I could feel it. The moment I took a position at the front, the men around me fought harder. They fought with confidence. They fought that way because they thought I would deliver them from this mess.
And I wasn’t going to. I condemned them to die. As sure enough as if I had swung the axe myself, everyone that I was fighting beside was going to die before the day was out. I could feel it. The only balm that my soul could find in this mess was that I was at least fighting beside them, but that too was tainted by the fact that I was using that faith in my abilities -- that I was favored by the gods -- to trick them into staying.
With me at the head, some orders did go out. Our soldiers started to dig in, rebuffing the Franks that fought to clamor up our walls, thinking that this was where we would make our escape. The Franks, on the other hand, fought for blood. I could see it in their eyes as they fought to climb up the ramparts, grasping at the spears when they stabbed down, trying to rip them out of our hands and take us over the edge. They came into the city expecting an easy victory. Then they encountered our barricades and how we bled them.
More than that, while I heard nothing, I suspected that the Frank general had given the order to retreat into the city to protect them from the army that emerged from the tunnels. Meaning that we were a threat that had to be eliminated so they could safely retreat. Funny how that turned out.
Some of the Franks got creative -- throwing flaming logs and oil soaked rags at the palisade in hope of starting a fire. They had some success, but even as parts of the palisade began to burn, our people fought on in a desperate melee, doing as much damage as we could while they slowly whittled down our defenses. "Hold the line!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, the familiar feeling of blood spraying across my face when a Frank lunged at me with a dirk in hand, his head flying free as his body fell back.
Even as I said the words, I knew it was impossible. Off to my left, I saw a burnt chunk of wood snap under the pressure, the Franks eagerly ripping it down to flood into our fortifications. I cursed under my breath, sweat and blood dripping down my face as I was forced to reposition myself to plug up the hole. It wouldn't win the battle, I was forced to remind myself, pushing through men that were desperately fighting. Hands reached out to touch me as I did, as if I offered divine protection.
In hindsight, that's probably what gave me away when I felt something slam into my upper back. I jerked forward, glancing down to see an arrow sticking out just below my collarbone. I blinked at it, more confused than anything. How did I not see it- oh. It hit me in the back and punched its way through to the front. My head whipped around to see the archer that did it -- a man standing on a burning building with a bow in hand. Even as our eyes met, I saw he was going to notch another arrow, intent on killing me.
I beat him to it. I lacked a bow, but flipping my axe so I could grab the butt of it, I lined up the Projectile Prediction, and flung it like I was cracking a whip. It flew through the air, crossing the distance in a quick second, and slammed into the man's forehead deep enough the edge was likely touching the back of his skull. His corpse fell to the side, his body breaking through the fragile roofing and his corpse fell into the flames that consumed the building.
I couldn't see a prediction of a projectiles path if it was shot from behind me. That was a dangerous weakness that I had never really considered.
"You," I said, grabbing a man and turning my back to him. "Break this," I instructed, grabbing hold of the tip of the arrow. There was a small pause before I felt him grab onto the shaft of the arrow and there was a flash of pain when he snapped it. Then the wound began to throb when I ripped the arrow out. It hurt, but I wasn't having any trouble breathing, so my lungs were fine. I think. In any case, I couldn't let the wound slow me down.
"Anything else, Wolf-Kissed?" The man asked me, and there was awe in his tone. My gaze went down to the weapon he had in his hand.
"Your axe," I said, holding out a hand and he was all too eager to give it to me. I tested its weight to find that it was a good axe. Blade was sharp and the balance was good.
"It's an honor, Wolf-Kissed! We'll either win the day or sup with the gods tonight!" The man laughed, following me into the breach to see that the Franks were making a desperate push into our position, trying to overrun it, only to be greeted by me as I arrived. My wound throbbed with pain with each swing of my axes, the blood that soaked my tunic wasn't solely the blood of my enemies. And despite the injury, I found myself fighting harder, or perhaps it was because of it that it was taking more out of me.
All the same, with each swing of my axes, I felled a man. If the initial blow didn't kill him, then he would die crushed underneath a veritable wall of bodies that fell on top of him when I plugged the gap with corpses of Franks. It was as I was standing on top of them that I saw it -- Thorkell gave the signal. En masse, a number of men began to push out of our fortifications, momentarily confusing our allies, until I shouted at the top of my lungs. "Hold strong! We have to cover their retreat!" I shouted the words I knew would condemn hundreds of brave men to their deaths.
Because we had to keep the Franks eyes on us. If they brought the full weight of their numbers on those escaping, without the palisades, they would be slowed and grinded away until they were nothing. My shouts carried to those that were around me, convincing them to stay and fight, but those on the fringes were quick to join Thorkell in a retreat.
Still, all the same, a great many men stayed behind. Hundreds. I didn't even have time to count, but I could eyeball them from where I stood -- around seven hundred were pushing out and leaving behind three hundred to fight with me.
With death hanging over their heads, Thorkell's warriors made a quick escape, pushing through the Franks with sheer weight of numbers. The smoke and fire obscured the action because I didn't see the Franks responding to the breakout. Before long, they pushed out, vanishing from eyesight, and I was forced to hope that they were making their escape. Which left me and three hundred brave warriors fighting to the last man. Our defenses were thinned considerably, and it felt like I was bouncing between holes in the line, pushing the Franks back as we were slowly whittled away.
The sun started to make an arc across the sky, which was the only passage of time that I could see. My lungs burned with effort, my muscles ached, and my stomach felt like it was consuming itself with hunger. Worst of all was the throbbing wound that burned as if someone was pressing a red hot iron to my flesh. I still fought on, giving it my all to take as many Franks as I possibly could, an odd desperate hope that they would just give up in the face of so many slain men. But they seemed to fight with the same kind of desperation that we faced.
Then I saw it. As I wiped blood from my eyes, standing on top a mountain of corpses, off in the distance I saw it. It was almost as if my gaze had been drawn to it because of how completely and utterly out of place it was.
It was Jill. She was standing on a familiar balcony, waving a blue flag that stood against the smoke and dull colors. There was a desperate expression on her face, waving the flag with such force I thought her arms would fly off, desperate to be noticed.
How did she- did she sneak back into- no. No, this was a message. She was…
There was another way out, I realized. I'm not sure where it was, but my guess was that there was a secret tunnel in the villa. We could escape. We just had to get to the villa, get through the secret tunnel, and ideally collapse it behind us.
"Men!" I shouted, looking at the defenders. I didn't know how long we had been fighting, but it was long enough to sap their strength. I saw it on their faces -- they knew that they weren't getting out and some faced that fact with much more grace than others. "Follow me! We're leaving!" I shouted, igniting a spark of hope in them and despite how utterly weary I was, I led the charge. The men scrambled behind me and pushed me forward, leaving me to act as the tip of the spear to push through the Franks. Who seemed wholly unprepared for us to leave the fortifications that we had defended with such zeal.
Everything became a blur of action. My head begun to feel light as more of my life blood seeped out of me. My fighting was starting to get sloppy, I realized when I took a slash that I should have been able to block across my forearm. All the same, I pushed through the Franks, the men desperately pushing me onward even as they were whittled down and exhausted.
The very last thing that I expected was to be greeted by Norse warriors attacking the Franks from behind as we neared the villa. Jill brought warriors with her. They blocked off a street, pushing back the Franks to meet us, and I managed to carve a line to them. They turned the villa into a rough fortress, welcoming us in. To my shame, I felt like I was going to collapse the moment I stepped through the doorway. I might have if it wasn't for Jill crossing the distance and propping me up with a hug, making my wounds sting.
"What are you doing here, Jill?" I asked her, idly realizing that I ruined her dress with blood.
"I couldn't leave you," she told me, her voice firm and concern shone in her eyes. I don't think she had ever seen me like this, I realized. Completely soaked with blood and utterly exhausted. It must be shocking to witness because the warriors within the villa were looking at me with wide eyes and slacked jaws.
"We have to leave this place," I told her. Part of me wanted to scold her for putting herself in danger. That part of me was completely overshadowed by sheer gratitude. Without her, I don't think any of us would have made it out of that position.
"There's a secret tunnel in the cellar," Jill informed me as she led me to it. The men were limping behind me while the fresher warriors barred the doors to slow the Franks that were now battering them down. "Morigan found it. She said that you would be brave enough to stay behind until you were the last man," she told me and her voice was the only thing I could really focus on at the moment, my feet feeling clumsy.
A chuckle escaped me. "I'm betting that she used different words," I remarked.
"It's what she meant," Jill conceded, bringing me to the cellar and I saw a passageway that had been hidden behind a shelf of kegs. Then men followed us down, and I swallowed the shame of being the first through the tunnel. I should be the last one leaving, but I didn't even have the strength to argue against the fact. "The battle outside was won. The Franks were pushed into the city."
"Astolfo?" I questioned, swallowing the taste of copper. I expected to see her during the battle, but she was nowhere to be seen. I thought she might be on the other side of the wall, but Jill shook her head.
"She wasn't here," Jill informed me, and that was alarming, but it was a distant concern.
As I limped through the tunnel, I asked a question that burned in my throat. "Your brother. Did he do this?" I asked Jill, any doubts about her loyalty were gone like most in the face of the morning sun. I saw her face pinch as she half carried me through a stone tunnel supported by wood beams that seemed ancient.
Jill didn't answer for a smalloment, "I don't know, Siegfried. I don't think so -- he's claimed to be innocent, but… I don't know," she confessed, and that was enough for me.
Before we even reached the end of the tunnel, my vision began to dim. The very last thing I heard was Jill calling out my name.
…
Quest Succeeded!
Reward: 1 Boon
Bonus Objective Failed: 56% of army failed to escape.
I opened my eyes to find that they felt like they were covered in sand, making me regret the action immediately. A small groan escaped me as I became aware of the rest of my body -- everything hurt in a way that I hadn't experienced in some time. Every muscle felt like it was pulled, my wounds throbbed with pain, and there was a bone deep exhaustion that cut through it all like a knife.
I failed the bonus objective, I realized, making my lips thin. Succeeding the quest was good, but I would have preferred if I hadn't lost half of the men under my command. Some five hundred and sixty men. A very painful blow.
Despite wanting nothing more than to close my eyes and sleep, I forced my body to move and it fought to disobey the commands to sit up. I saw that I was in a tent. My tent, I realized. The furs were warm against the chill in the air, so I decided to take them with me. My clothes were gone, my flesh scrubbed of blood and my injuries bandaged. Pushing the tent flap to the side, I saw fresh snow on the ground and King Widukind's tent.
My feet were calloused enough that walking on the snow that crunched underfoot only brought a small wince. Ignoring the looks that I got from the soldiers that were milling around, I approached the tent and pushed the flap open to see that it was empty.
"Wolf-Kissed?" I heard a man speak up in Germanic, making me glance over my shoulder to see a Saxon with a long beard looking at me with an expression of apprehension.
"Where is King Widukind?" I questioned, my voice coming out as a growl mostly because of how raw my throat felt.
The soldier opened his mouth, paused, before he grimaced. "It… would be best to show you, my lord," he told me, his expression and voice grim. That made me uneasy, but I offered a curt nod and followed the man through the camp. My strength was slowly returning to me, making me more aware of the tension within the sizable camp. We were in a forest, so we had to be camped outside of Frankfurt. However, as I looked around, I saw anger.
This didn't feel like an army that just won a victory.
People were so lost in their anger that they hardly noticed me as I passed, absorbed in whatever they were doing or their conversations. Those that did notice me looked immensely relieved that I was up and running. I returned their greetings with a nod as I continued to silently follow the soldier.
I smelled it before I saw it. The stench of death and blood. I tried to brace myself for what I was going to see -- I was no stranger to death anymore… but there was no preparing me for what I saw as we walked around a bend some distance away from the camp.
It has once been a grove. A richly decorated one and at the center was a large tree. A very large one. So large that it stood a head and shoulders taller than any tree around it and it would take a dozen of me to wrap my arms around it. It was an incredible sight, but the reason I would never be able to forget the sight wasn't because of the grand tree so great it could be a seedling of Yggdrasil.
Around the base of the tree were severed heads. They were thrown in a great pile at the base of the tree, completely enveloping the base of it and stacked higher than most buildings stood tall. In the groves, which should house offerings to the gods and sacred altars were instead corpses that were piled even higher. All of them stripped naked, showing signs of being beaten and decay, before they were beheaded. My stomach churned at the sight, my jaw dropping as I saw the bodies of children in the pile.
"W-What is this?!" I gasped, feeling bile race up my throat but I swallowed it down, my eyes flickering around as if there was an answer to this atrocity.
"This is what the Franks were up to while we were in Frankfort," the Saxon answered, hard in his voice, walking down to the grove where there were people working on dismantling the piles. That's when I realized something deeply horrifying -- the piles were originally bigger. I swallowed down more bile, passing by a number of people with somber faces as they tried to figure out whose head belonged to what body so they could be burned intact. So that their spirits could be appeased.
I found King Widukind standing in the grove, directly before the tree, and staring at the piles of heads. He barely reacted when the Saxon approached. "My King, the Wolf-Kissed has awoken and he is here." The Saxon said with a bow before stepping back.
There was a breath of silence before King Widukind spoke, "Thank you. Seigfried, stand with me please." He said, gesturing to his side, his voice unlike anything that I had ever heard. I didn't think it was possible to have a silent scream of rage between every word yet sound so calm.
I stood beside him, the image before me seared into my memory. "How many?" I asked him in a low voice and I heard a soft sign come from the King.
"... We don't know," He answered, closing his eyes in pain. "But we have counted three thousand so far. Yet we are not half way through," he informed me. I stilled at the number, realizing that thousands had been butchered in a sacred place. Morrigan. I needed to speak to Morrigan -- perhaps she knew of a magic ritual that could cleanse this place and put the dead to rest. "The army I was mustering outside of Frankfurt is all here. Two thousand of them are here, but the rest… the rest are villagers and townsfolk, dragged here to be butchered. To send a message. To break us."
I glanced at the Saxon King, his expression serene. "Has it?" I asked him, understanding what was said. Saxony had suffered a major defeat -- the loss of two thousand men was going to be felt most keenly by us. The surrounding area had been depopulated. It would take generations for this place to recover, if it ever did. We gave up Frankfurt, and lost at least five hundred men in the process. King Widukind's plan hadn't worked because I proved too effective at raiding.
I don't think I could blame anyone for wanting to surrender.
King Widukind paused for a long minute, silent and still for so long that I thought he wasn't going to answer. "Almost," he confessed. "I considered going to King Charlemagne and offering myself to end the hostilities. The only reason I didn't is that I realized that it wouldn't. We have proven too troublesome. He will break Saxony now, putting as many of us to the sword as he can to make room for his Christians." He voiced, his tone strangled with emotion.
"Then we fight," I decided.
King Widukind nodded slowly, "Then we fight. You did well getting out of the city, Siegfried. I suspect we will need your strength in the coming days," He said, reaching out and placing a hand on my shoulder before he turned around and walked away, an impossible burden on his shoulders. I watched him go for a moment before I turned around to look back at the tree, feeling the scale of what was done wash over me. I knew King Charlemagne hated us, but it was a very different thing to witness the manifestation of that hate.
He'd kill us all if he could, I realized.
I was only broken out of my thoughts when I heard the sound of footsteps approaching from behind. I wasn't overly surprised when I saw Grimar out of the corner of my eye, coming to a stop next to me. Both of us stared at the tree and the butchery. The Saxons were not our people, but they were close enough. They did not deserve this.
"It wasn't me," Grimar told me, his voice flat. "I want you dead, Wolf-Kissed, but not enough to kill a thousand good men with you. You're the only one that has to die," Grimar told me, not looking at me as he spoke.
Strangely enough, I believed him. It was excessive for an assassination attempt.
"Will you stay and fight?" I asked him, my voice decidedly even.
Grimar was silent for a moment, but I saw him nod. "Aye, I will. This… this must be answered in blood and steel. The dead will never find peace otherwise."
"Your family owes me a blood debt, and I will have it paid in full. But… if you'll fight, I will hold off on killing you until the war is won." I told him -- the vengeance in my heart rebelled at the idea, but it was drowned out by anger. Anger at King Charlemagne.
Grimar worked his jaw for a moment, clearly annoyed at the insulation that any blood debt was owed. However, all the same, he nodded again. "Aye. I won't try to kill you until the war is won. Or we are defeated," he said, spitting in his palm and presenting it to me.
I looked up at the man, the son of my enemy…
I spat in my palm and shook his hand all the same.
Comments
Donte
Honestly if you think about it, Christians back than we’re evil as fuck, they genocide anyone who didn’t follow there religion while the pagans didn’t to much care what god you followed.
Sebastian Rubin
... oh shit. As if Viking bärsärks weren't bad enough, Charlemagne's general - whoever the fool is - has figured out how to trigger the rarely seen Righteous Fury Bärsärks. I'd wish him luck, but honestly, fuck him and his genocidal crusaders with their own crosses.
AernJardos
This story is why I am a Patreon. It remains one of the best I have ever read.
