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Legends Never Die: Reunions (ch. 26)
🕑 Added 2023-02-08 15:36:24 +0000 UTCThe meeting concluded not long after the reveal that we were dealing with an entirely separate Frankish Army. King Widukind acted composed, but there was an edge of franticness in his actions that betrayed how flatfooted he was caught. How off guard all of us were taken. We were sworn to secrecy before he would ‘allow’ us to leave to avoid panicking the troops, and any reservations that I felt about the lies of omission were reassured by Thorkell voicing his agreement to the plan.
We were quickly ushered out by King Widukind, who needed time to plan our next move, but I had to wonder if there was a next move we could make. Now that I had seen the awesome power of cavalry firsthand, the fact that the Franks outnumbered us two to one seemed to be the lesser of our concerns. It didn’t help matters that I was still groping for understanding when it came to Astolfo -- what she was and what it meant. As well as the possibility that there were twelve of her serving under King Charlemagne.
“Wolf-Kissed,” I heard Grimar speak up, an edge of distaste in his voice as he stopped me cold. I looked over my shoulder at him to see that he was pinning a cold gaze in my direction, and he received a colder one in return. “We have our… differences, I will admit, but now is not the time to let bad blood cloud our judgment. We need to discuss what we shall do.”
“I don’t see what there is to discuss,” I shot back, my tone curt and hateful. He wouldn’t live to see spring. I wouldn’t let him. How fucking dare he speak to me…
“We have plenty,” Grimar returned, his voice just as curt. “I hold you in as much contempt as you hold me. You kidnapped my sister, Wolf-Kissed. That is something I will not forgive. But there is a time for vengeance and a time for wisdom. It is time to be wise. I still possess eight hundred men. You, two hundred. A considerable fighting force should we join forces. Temporarily.” He added, sounding every bit as disgusted with the idea as I felt.
However, my attention caught on something he said. “I kidnapped your sister?” I questioned, bristling at the accusation. In response to the disbelief in my tone, Grimar snarled at me. The most emotion that I had seen on his face.
“Don’t play a fool, Wolf-Kissed. You are young. Not an idiot. Nor should you take me as one. Your witch woman, I know of her. You had her use magics on my sister to get her to betray her family. Then you stole her in the dead of night,” he growled at me. My lips peeled back, matching his snarl as we stood in the open road, having just barely left the villa.
“I couldn’t have done anything considering your brother poisoned me,” I snapped at him, a hand going to my axe. I ached to bury it inside of him. I still recalled my promise -- to do everything I did to Kjell, one of my sister's betrothed, to every member of Horrik’s family. To gouge out his eyes, cut off his nose, ears, and balls. To take his hands and feet. The only thing I would leave him would be his tongue so he could beg for death.
“A wise measure. I acknowledge your power, Wolf-Kissed. I have no hope in besting you in battle,” He admitted without shame, confessing that he would use a coward's weapon on me since no blade would work. Practical, I suppose. But I couldn’t say I cared for the admission at all. Even if it would no longer work on me after taking Iron Stomach. “But I am not here to discuss what our families have done to each other. Nor what we shall do to each other for I have just as much claim to vengeance as you do. I am here to discuss what we shall do about the Franks.”
He had a claim to vengeance against me? What a bad fucking joke. “As I said, we have nothing to discuss, Grimar.”
“You are allowing your feelings to cloud your judgment,” he rebuked, a hand going to his own axe before he caught the action and stopped it before he could complete it. He was right. I wasn’t so lost in the haze of hate that I couldn’t see that he was right. However, I was just lost enough in that haze that I didn’t care how right he was.
I wanted to hurt him. In any way that I could. I just wanted him to suffer. I didn’t care what he had to say, I didn’t care how right he was, and I didn’t care what would be best or worse. I hated him. Grinding my teeth together, I felt Thorkell and Hallstein’s eyes turn to me. I know that they had their own thoughts, and they weren’t party to my revenge. Then an idea struck me, “Fine,” I snapped at him, turning around. “Follow me and you can see your sister,” I told him, thinking that the truth would be a good dagger in the heart if I couldn’t put an actual dagger in it.
“She’s here? You brought her here?” Grimar bit the words out, his own hird glowering at me, but I didn’t care as I marched through the streets, showing them my back. “You-” He started, only to cut himself off with a low growl as he stomped behind me, following in my tracks. I could feel his seething glare at my back, and I wished I could turn around to return it. He really was a fool. I brought her here because the city was a lot safer than getting chased throughout Francia.
We traveled in silence as I headed to the villa that Morrigan and Jill had claimed. A good number of my men were nearby, both acting as guards, and looking for a place to stay. The villa wasn’t as nice as the one that King Widukind resided in, but it was clearly meant for nobility. Pushing open the heavy set double doors, I saw that if there had been any wealth decorating the veritable palace, it likely had been moved over to the villa of King Widukind. All the same, it was a fine building.
Even the longhouses or feasting halls couldn't compare.
As we entered the hall, a door flung open almost as soon as we crossed the threshold. Jill seemed ever slightly so different from the last time I saw her some months ago, even if there wasn't any apparent cause for it. Her hair was perhaps a bit longer, but beyond that, she should seem almost identical. She just wasn't for some odd reason. "Seigfried-" she started to greet me, a smile playing at the edges of her lips, only for it to drop off entirely. "Grimar?"
"Jill," Grimar breathed, brushing past me, and his tone was so relieved that it gave me pause. I thought he might try to hurt her or be angry. I was ready to kill him for it. But, instead, he strode forward and, to my shock, Jill rushed forward and greeted him with a hug. The two embraced for a long moment, leaving me watching them as my guts started to tie themselves into knots.
Jill has only spoken ill of Thorfinn, I recalled. She spoke of the indifference of her father. But she had said nothing about her brothers and sisters beyond acknowledging that I was going to kill them one day. That she could never return to them because she betrayed her kin in helping me. Because of it, I never thought she would greet one of her brothers so warmly. Nor would she be welcomed so warmly.
I didn't lament because of their bond. I lamented because I knew what it meant.
I was still going to kill him. And I suspected that Jill would have far greater difficulty accepting that than she thought she would.
"Are you okay? Have you been treated well?" Grimar questioned, breaking the hug and taking a step back, tilting his head to keep an eye on me. Jill looked overwhelmed as she looked up at her brother, her mouth opening and closing, as if she wasn't sure what she should say.
"I'm well, brother," Jill managed to say, her gaze flickering to me for answers on what was going on. "Seigfried has treated me well and with kindness. I… what are you doing here? A-are you here to take me back?" She questioned, taking a step away from Grimar, and based on his posture, he was both surprised and tense at the question. If I had to guess, he was here to bring her back to Horrik.
"I-" Grimar started before he stopped himself, openly glancing at me with narrowed eyes. "I'm here for several reasons. Our father brokered a deal with King Widukind. In exchange for our aide in his war, he will not support Godfrey in any way. The plunder we take will be used to pay the mercenaries that fight for us… and I came here for vengeance against the man who stole a member of my family." He said, a grimness in his tone while his lips were pressed together.
"Seigfried didn't steal me, Grimar. I… left with him. Because of Thorfinn," Jill managed weakly, her voice echoing in the stone walls despite how softly she spoke. "He bragged about killing another of my betrothed."
I saw it. Grimar hadn't believed it. Not until it came out of Jill's mouth. He hadn't believed that Thorfinn really tried to kill me and that she had willingly come with me. I'm uncertain exactly what he believed, but it wasn't the truth. "I see," he uttered, his voice tightly controlled as he looked at me.
"I would like an apology for your false accusations," I told him, my voice harsh to my own ears. His nostrils flared in response, telling me that I wouldn't be getting one. Not an earnest one, at any rate.
"Siegfried," Jill spoke up, looking between us, fear and uncertainty in her eyes. She wanted me to be kinder. I could tell.
I didn't have it in me. "I meant what I told you, Jill. You are the only member of your family I can forgive. The rest of you owe my family a blood debt and I will take every drop that I am owed," I told her outright, making it as perfectly clear as I could. There would be no mercy from me. She could not beseech me into forgiving her brother or making an exception. Because of that, Jill wilted and Grimar frowned deeply at me, angered on her behalf.
"Wolf-Kissed…" he bit the words out, his tone colored by anger. Then he sighed harshly. "What do you intend to do about the Franks?" He questioned, abruptly changing the subject because he knew there was no point in discussing the matter of vengeance further. I could see the thoughts in his head churning. I suspected that he was going to try to steal Jill away.
Jill was a free woman. She could go with Grimar if she wished. I wouldn't stop her, but if she went back to that family, any forgiveness she received would be rescinded. She would die. The only difference would be that I would give her a quick death compared to the rest of her kin.
I said nothing and Grimar took that as an opportunity to continue, "The Saxons have lost this war. They can't hope to do anything against such a force." He was ready to tuck tail and run. It wasn't surprising, really. Mostly because I didn't think he was wrong about the Saxons losing. I struggled to imagine how King Widukind hoped to win. All the damage we had dealt thus far hadn't been enough. King Charlemagne refused to be defeated, and he had a far deeper reserve of resources to pull from. "I must think of my home. It is possible that Charlemagne intends to conquer Denmark next."
I recalled my brief meeting with the Frank King. That, I admitted to myself, did seem like a possibility. Ten thousand men was more than enough to crush the Saxons, and he had an opportunity in Denmark because of the succession war. Still, I said nothing, wanting to know exactly what Grimar was getting at.
He regarded me coldly, "I suggest a joint raid between our forces come spring. We leave King Widukind to do as he likes and draw the ire of the Franks. Meanwhile, we head into Francia to sack one of their cities. I understand you attacked many, but you had to keep the looting quick and light. We shall divide the spoils between the two of us."
He wanted to work together. "No," I refused, not even considering it.
"I heard you were a great leader for one so young. How disappointing that you can only lash out like a child," Grimar snapped at me, his own patience reaching its limits. "We do not have to like one another. This plan benefits us both."
"I don't need wealth. I can get it easily enough on my own," I refuted, growling at him. "I can't stomach the thought of working with you. Traitor blood runs through you. My father was your father's friend for many years and your father allowed my brothers to be killed by Thorfinn!" I snarled at him, and I felt a pang of regret as I uttered the words because Jill paled, her face going bloodless.
In response, Grimar laughed harshly. "Your father a faithful friend?! Did you never consider your own name? Why would you be named after an enemy of my father?" He demanded, his voice thundering through the hall. My heart pounded in my chest because I had wondered that.
"I am named for the hero Siegfried, who slew the dragon Fafnir," I retorted and Grimar sneered.
"Then you would be named Sigurd. Your father was a traitor. He worked for King Sigfred. As a proof of his loyalty, he named one of his sons after him -- you. All in the hopes that he would become Jarl after he betrayed my father and usurped his city," Grimar snapped at me. I opened my mouth to shout something back -- what, I didn't know -- but what stopped me was Tell Spotter wasn't activated. He wasn't lying. That didn't mean he was telling the truth, but it did mean, to Grimar's knowledge, he wasn't lying.
I had thought it odd when I met King Sigfred. That odd look that King Sigfred had aimed at my father. How much of the kindness he showed me was convincing me to join him or was it because he thought I was already on his side? Not to mention the little lies between the two that I had noticed -- the lie about the coin pouch, that Horrik was having my father watched… did he do so for all of his subjects? Or was it because he had reason to watch my father? My family? Was that the reason he allowed the raids on our farms?
"Grimar, enough!" Jill exclaimed, catching her brother by surprise. "You both have just fought in battle. Your tempers are short. Both of you should rest before…" she trailed off, as if she didn't want to give us the idea. Too late for that. Both of us already thought of it.
Grimar worked his jaw, "Aye. You speak wisdom, Jill. I shall come again on the morrow," Grimar stated, looking to Jill with the clear expectation that she would join him. In response, Jill looked at me. She wanted me to tell her that she should stay.
I couldn't. I wasn't that I didn't want to. I did. But this was something she had to decide for herself. She was the one that had to decide if she was going to stay with me, or return to her family. She was the one that would have to live with the consequences of either choice -- either she would stay with me and understand that I would be killing the rest of her family, or she could return to them in hopes of forgiveness and hope to get a clean death at my hands. I couldn't influence her either way.
Because, if I did, I would never know what she would have chosen on her own. And I would never trust her because of it.
"Don't bother, Grimar. I have nothing to say to a corpse," I refuted, my gaze going to Jill. "This is your choice, Jill. It is only your choice," I told her, not soaring her feelings, and she seemed to wilt because of a clear direction. Grimar glared at me for my stubbornness. Perhaps he was a better leader because he could put his personal feelings aside, but I couldn't. Not in this. He could offer me nothing that would make it worth it.
"I'll… stay here, Grimar," Jill voiced, flinching ever so slightly when Grimar turned his glare to her. Only instead of pure anger, it was intermixed with confusion.
I thought he would react more, but Grimar was proving to be rather restrained. Instead of lashing out, he simply offered a curt nod, "Very well, sister." He decided, marching forward and past me. Thorkell and Hallstein caught my look and followed him out of the building to make sure that he stayed out. I wondered what they thought of this mess because they said nothing during it. Swallowing a sigh, I looked to Jill to see that she was gathering herself.
She chose to stay. I wouldn't forget that. "This… wasn't what I thought our reunion would look like, I didn't expect one of my brothers to be here." Jill admitted to me as I approached.
"Neither did I," I admitted. The very last thing I expected was to encounter a son of Horrik.
"Grimar isn't Thorfinn," Jill offered, though I didn't ask. "He was always gone because Horrik sent him away. But, when I did see him, he was always kind to me," she continued, searching my eyes for a hope of mercy, and she found none. “He protected me. As much as he could,” she added in a low mutter.
I didn’t want to hear about any redeeming features of someone I hated, I decided. I preferred it when they were pure evil. When there was nothing redeemable about them. “Jill, I won’t blame you if you want to go back to your family. Or if this is harder for you than you thought it would be. But it doesn’t change anything for me. I am going to kill him, Jill. It’s your decision if that is something you can live with,” I told her, making her look away.
I felt tired, I decided. The defeat was demoralizing, and this hadn’t helped. Jill had nothing to say in response. “I’m going to wash the day away. It’s not a decision you have to make now. Or one you should make lightly. But it is your decision,” I told her, walking past her in hopes of finding a tub in this villa. If a Jarl could have one, then surely a Frankish noble would have one as well.
In my wake, there was silence.
…
A sigh escaped me as I sunk deeply into a tub of steaming water. The villa contained a small lake of water to bathe in. I wasn’t entirely sure how it worked. I just knew that when I asked around about taking a bath, I was guided into this room and found hot water being pumped into it as servants boiled the water somewhere and the hot water was then pushed into the small lake.
My gaze drifted to everything around me -- the so-called bathhouse was decorated. There were old and faded murals on the walls of a race of men wearing red plumes, and women standing in shells. I didn’t understand it either, but it was interesting to look at. And it was a welcomed distraction. My thoughts were torn on what direction they should go in -- what Jill would do weighed heavily on my mind. The war with the Franks seemed almost hopeless at this point, so it was a very real question of what we could do. It was also a question of what the Franks were doing while we were trapped in Frankfurt, both by an army, and by winter.
Above all else, Astolfo was a concern. She had been fast. So very fast. She was a great slayer of men with her spear. In addition to that, she hadn’t seemed injured from getting thrown by her horse after I killed it. Was that a blessing from her God? She claimed to not know what I spoke of, and I didn’t know what to think of that at all. Did Astolfo not see messages from her God? Did she not receive quests?
If not, then what was it? What kind of blessing did she receive? How alike were we? How different were we?
I didn’t expect to encounter anyone like me, I could admit to myself in silence, sitting alone in a steaming lake. It wasn’t an expectation that I alone had the attention of the gods, but now that I encountered someone of similar ability, I realized that I… never expected to. I wasn’t prepared for it. Especially when the person in question was a Christian. I didn’t believe in the Christian God, but I was forced to accept that he did exist. Unless Loki was playing a grand trick, but surely the other Aesir would punish him for aiding a race of men that sought the destruction of our ways.
Was the Christian God a different breed of god? Such as the Aesir and the Vanir? Then why was there only God? Was this God a liar, claiming all credit for the existence of his race of men? Or was he truly that powerful? It was a discomforting thought, I decided.
I was broken from my thoughts by the sound of a door opening, the hinges squeaking as they did so, followed by the sounds of footsteps. Looking over and sinking deeper into the murky waters, I saw who entered. Morrigan. Like Jill, little about her had changed in the past months. Her golden colored eyes were still sharp, her dark hair was still tied up -- the only real changes were the amount of jewelry she was wearing. There was the golden necklace that my father had gifted the wise woman, and now there were baubles hanging from her wrists, clasps on her arms, and rings on her fingers.
She was wearing a ransoms worth of gold. “Siegfried. Rather rude of you to ignore those that have been waiting oh so patiently for your return,” Morrigan remarked as I made my way to the edge of the small lake. Her gaze scoured me as she looked down, searching for signs of injuries. While I had hardly emerged without a scratch in the past few months, the scratches I did receive were just that -- scratches. “Especially when they have good news. The ransom was paid in full and dear Ageric was able to keep his leg.”
That was good news, I thought. An additional fifty pounds of gold and precious stones.
Morrigan began to hike up her skirts, revealing pale flesh of her legs. I found myself looking away, even if I wasn’t entirely sure why. It wasn’t the first time I had seen her legs, but this time… I don’t know. It felt like I saw something that I shouldn’t. I heard Morrigan chuckle before she sat down on the edge of the lake. “I trust that your venture was plentiful.”
I nodded, “Provided that the Franks don’t find where we buried the horde -- three hundred pounds of gold, twelve hundred pounds of silver, and fifty pounds of precious gems were buried. We brought back only a fraction of it with us,” I told her, and I saw the hunger in Morrigan’s eyes.
“T’is not often that I am proven wrong,” Morrigan acknowledged before she reached out to me. “Come here. Your hair is in most desperate need of a combing. Did you bathe even once?” She questioned, producing a fine-toothed comb she had prepared. I hesitated, venturing closer to her and allowing her to place my head in between her knees. The comb found knots almost as soon as she started to feed it through my hair.
“We were being hunted the entire time, so wash days were rare,” I admitted, wincing as she was anything but tender as she attacked the knots in my red hair. “And I’m not certain that I was correct. The Franks fielded another army in Saxony. All signs point to the war being lost,” I admitted, making Morrigan pause.
“What shall be done, then?” She asked as she attacked the knots in my hair. It wasn’t anything at all like Mother used to do. Then again, she also never allowed me to neglect my hair this much. “Will we surrender? Bend the knee to the Christian lords and their dead god?” The Christian God was less dead than I thought he was.
It was a good question. One that I wished I had an answer to. “I don’t think so,” I voiced, staring ahead as I let the warm water soothe the aches of months of hard riding and battles, along with the bitterness of defeat. “King Widukind doesn’t strike me as the type to surrender so easily. And it can’t be denied that we’ve done damage to King Charlemagne. It’s just a question of whether it is enough to establish a peace.”
To that, Morrigan scoffed, “This Charlemagne fellow does not strike me as the type to accept a peace of any kind. I imagine your attacks simply gave him ample reason to want us all dead.” Morrigan voiced, and that was a very real possibility. I had humiliated King Charlemagne by raiding Francia. Enough so that I had given Francia a common enemy, unfortunately.
In response, I grunted, leaning my head a bit when Morrigan nearly broke the comb or tore a lock of hair right out of my head. “Jill’s brother thinks there will be no point in fighting further. It’s an opinion I think a lot are going to have.”
“I heard as much,” Morrigan responded, sounding unsurprised. “T’is a cruel choice she has before her. I do not envy her to make it.” That sounded dangerously close to empathy from her. Something that I didn’t expect from Morrigan of all people.
“Have you been getting along?” I asked, almost dreading the answer.
“Well enough. I still believe her to be an empty-headed girl, but she isn’t completely intolerable. In small enough doses,” Morrigan allowed.
I was silent for a moment, imagining myself put in such a position. It made me feel guilty for putting Jill in it. “What would you do?” I questioned, earning a bark of laughter from Morrigan. It was a rich sound but it carried an edge of bitterness.
“T’is a most easy choice for me,” Morrigan responded, working the last of the knots out of my hair. I found that it was longer than I remembered. It had always brushed the back of my neck, as I was a freeman, but now it drifted down to my back. Mother would say it was time for me to start growing it out long now that I was a man. My gaze went to my armband. One that I had received from Horrik that had been meant to be a gift to his youngest son, who would be around my age. “Jill will have to decide this for herself. T’is not an easy choice, but her course has already been set. Even if she returns, she shan’t be welcomed by her kin. She knows this.”
I grunted at that, knowing it was true, but I would have preferred it to be because Jill wanted to stay. Morrigan took that as a sign to continue speaking. “At your suggestion, the men have been making inroads with the Norse warriors. I imagine a number of them would be willing to follow you, if only because of your wealth. When spring comes, we will have a decision to face, I imagine. I heard Grimar’s offer.”
I scoffed, unhappy to even consider it. “I’m going to kill him,” I told her, earning a chuckle from Morrigan.
“Naturally. But would it not be prudent to use him before then?” She questioned, and I knew the suggestion was born of greed. Morrigan liked her baubles. “One final raid before the Saxons are defeated would be a worthy endeavor.” My scowl deepened as she pitched the idea because I could see the sense behind it. It was a worthy suggestion and it wasn’t a poor plan. However, the mere thought of working with Grimar made my blood boil.
“We don’t know the Saxons will be defeated yet,” I argued mostly for the sake of arguing. She seemed to know it because she lightly pushed my head forward, telling me that she knew I was just being stubborn.
“Don’t we?” She questioned and I could hear her rolling her eyes. “Unless you can deal with the army outside of the walls, who are undoubtedly digging beneath our feet to spring up in the center of the city, then do the same with the other army that is out marauding through Saxony completely unopposed, then there is only one way this can end. I do wish it weren’t so, but t’is time to face facts. The Saxons have lost.”
Digging beneath our feet. That was likely true. It would be more time-consuming, but they had the men and the time to pull it off. Then again… so did we.
“I don’t know about the latter,” I voiced, a plan coming together in my head. “But I do think we can do something about the former.”
Comments
Razorfloss razor
I know it's to early but I really want him to say fuck this and sell to Iceland and make a deal with the jarl that basically boils down to stay the fuck over there and I'll stay over here. Maybe have the tension between the two families die down after they're both dead.
LtDan
Awww, our little murder blender is having trouble with his own empathy challenging his cultural norms! Looking forward to seeing how this plays out. For all his strengths, he's still a child in some ways.
