IdeasGuy
patreon
Legends Never Die: To Be Iviking (ch. 22)
🕑 Added 2022-11-30 15:31:24 +0000 UTCAs it would turn out, King Widukind's need for exact measurements worked out perfectly for us. The scouts that were sent out to patrol the countryside and monitor the Frankish army had reported almost everything that they had seen, ranging from good terrain, poor terrain, hamlets, villages, and towns. There was a rather clearly marked border between what they explored and everything beyond it, but at the very least, it served as a starting point to decide our course of action.
There were a number of villages dotted around the countryside, but they were relatively sparse. More so now because the smaller raiding parties were able to mobilize ahead of us. Meaning that we would have to penetrate deeper into the Frankish Kingdom for spoils. I did, however, learn the names of a number of towns and cities that laid beyond what we knew -- down the Rhine River was a settlement called Mannheim. Deeper inland were cities known as Luxembourg, Saabrucken, and Trier.
Many notable towns and villages were dotted along the way, connected by dirt roads and sometimes stone. From the tales the scouts had told us, echoing what they were told by Frankish thralls, some of these towns were as large or larger than Alabu.
But, that didn't mean all of them were viable targets. I had a company of two hundred men. Fifty were archers, the rest were warriors. Each carried a shield but few possessed any type of armor beyond a gambeson. Our ships only carried enough food for a week without any other source of sustenance. The assumption was that we would be taking our food from the villages that we came across. For that same reason we weren't given any carts or animals to move our supplies once we moved inland.
Lastly, I learned that the territory that I intended to start raiding was all owned by a single man. Duke Hanabi Agilolfing. A staunch supporter of King Charlemagne and a powerful man within the kingdom. The core of his territory stretched from a notable town called Ulm to a place called Bern, but he commanded the thegns- or 'Counts' as the Franks called them, of the smaller territories around him.
Altogether, it was a good amount of information. Enough to put together a plan of action and decide what targets we wanted to raid. While our numbers were too few to take and hold a city, they were too many to waste on villages. Towns that lacked walls were ideal. Cities without an army in them similarly so.
"We leave the smaller targets to the roaming bands. Our priority should be towns and cities," I decided, looking at the map of the Frankish Kingdom. Only the big cities were marked on it, but I could use them as points of reference. "And we can't afford to stay in one place,” I continued, making a small dot on a map between the town of Mannheim as we sailed down the Rhine River. Smoke drifted up from it and there were the smoldering ruins of several buildings. As we passed by, I saw a number of sacrifices around a tree in the village square, all hanging from it.
Sacrifices to Odin.
I crossed that dot out with another strike of a charcoal piece, marking the village as looted.
“Can’t take thralls either. Maybe a few for hard labor, but when slaves feel like they aren’t outnumbered, they start acting rowdy,” Thorkell remarked, sitting at the rudder and savoring the breeze that blew behind us. My ships were all being used for the raiding, and of the hundred and fifty men, thirteen more had longships as leaders of their own mercenary companies. “As I see it, the biggest problem is going to be hauling loot. Men are loathe to leave behind anything that glitters, even if it means that they’re slow enough for a hungry wolf to catch up to them.”
As far as problems went, having too much loot was about as good of one to have as you could hope for. “Sending loot back up the Rhine is asking for it to be stolen. And I imagine it won’t be too long before King Charlemagne realizes that we’re using it,” I agreed. Rivers were great for transportation, but if it came to an ambush, there was precious little we could do to respond beyond row faster to escape it. Or land if the ambushing party was small enough.
“Could try burying it,” Thorkell remarked with a shrug. “Take some thralls, have them bury it, then kill them when we’re done. No one but you would know where it is. Getting it might not be easy given the circumstances, but it’ll be better than leaving it behind.” The idea did have merit, I suppose.
“I suppose it depends on how much we find,” I responded, thinking that it was something to consider. I was about to say more before Thorkell’s head perked up, making me lift mine as well. I saw what he was looking at -- the scout ship that we had sent up the river was banked on the side. Empty of men, but there were a handful of our warriors that were waving us down. Standing up, I grabbed a horn before I pressed my lips to it and blew a sharp note while Thorkell began to guide us to the bank.
Almost as soon as we were within speaking distance, a man that I recognized approached. Short but stocky, dark black hair, black beard, and dark brown eyes. Hallstein Bergvidsson. One of the captains of the mercenaries that were put under my command. Though, most people called him Blood-Feather on account of the raven feathers that were woven into his chainmail. “Wolf-Kissed. We've finally outpaced the scraps,” Hallstein greeted, giving me a wide smile as we began to disembark.
“Did we out-pace them or did they pass it over?” I questioned, my boots sloshing through the water. A lot of the mercenary bands had a week head start on us, but they went in every single direction except for into Saxony. The river was a natural choice for some, yet not everyone had a longship to navigate it. Between that, and the time it would take to perform the raid itself, our goal was to cut off the smaller bands before cutting into the kingdom by road.
The hope was to draw some Norse mercenaries to us in hopes of greater wealth. Not only to increase our numbers a bit, but to replace any losses we might suffer.
“Could be both,” Hallstein admitted. “It’s a big village. Smaller bands would know better than to try it. Any case, it’s ripe for the taking,” he voiced his opinion. I gestured for him to lead the way while the rest of the company started to get off the ships. Some would stay behind to guard them.
One thing that I was learning about Francia and Saxony was that there were a lot of forests. Dense ones, too. Between them and the hills, traversing without the ships would be difficult. A march that should only take a day could end up taking two instead. Even three in the wrong circumstances. All the same, Hallstein lead us up through a narrow path carved out of the forest, up a hill, before I saw what he spoke of.
It was a city. Did we arrive at Mannheim already? I thought it would have taken longer. Maybe another six hours of sailing, or so. Depending on how many bends there were in the river. The city itself had a low wall around it that had seen better days. It had outright collapsed in some places. There were a number of stone houses with clay roofing that all seemed to be arranged within the walls. However, there were a number of buildings that were made of wood arranged outside of the walls.
At the heart of the city itself was a large building. A church, I was coming to recognize.
I did see that several buildings were being disassembled for the stone and it was being used to rebuild the walls that were left in disrepair. Too little too late. Within the walls, the buildings were all arranged in a pattern. A grid. It was odd looking, I decided. I didn’t like it.
Holding up my map, I frowned at it, seeing several turns and bends of the Rhine that we hadn’t taken but I saw no other city that it could be. It had to be Mannheim. Rolling the map up, I looked down at the city in thought, flanked by Thorkell and Hallstien while the rest of the men disembarked. From what I could see, it was a bustling town. Bigger than Alabu, for certain. Bigger than Cologne, the more I looked at it. Was Mannheim supposed to be this big? We're all the important towns this size? Cologne was on it, but Frankfurt wasn't. It seemed almost arbitrary.
"We should attack swiftly. Those holes in the walls won't mean much if they're filled with the bodies of Franks," Hallstien remarked. A true point. This was different from Cologne. There was no Christian holiday to take advantage of. The gates were already closed and there was a constant workforce around the crumbling walls. I'd give it another three days before they were repaired completely, but even a half wall was better than no wall.
"Might be best to give up getting over that wall," Thorkell remarked, nodding at the city. "Plenty outside of it. Could set fire to the houses to disrupt any pitch battle and our movements." Another good plan.
In all likelihood, even the garrison of the city would outnumber us. We couldn't afford a pitched battle. Thorkell's suggestion was the wiser of the two, I thought, but it was missing something. That church would hold great wealth. Getting into the city would further weaken King Charlemagne because it would make it clear that his cities were not safe. That even a small force could sack them. To that end…
"The church tower is the alarm," I voiced, thinking the plan through. "They might work through the night, but they might not. Depends on how pressured they feel. Barracks are going to be points of concentration for soldiers…" I muttered, tilting my head at the city as I figured out how to best take it. The two captains watched me in silence, watching me work before I came to a conclusion. "We wait until nightfall. I'll sneak into the city now to learn where the enemy is and to disable that bell. Thorkell, Hallstien -- you two both lead a hundred men each into the city along paths that I mark. I'll open a path from within. At the same time, thirty men will set fire to a handful of buildings to draw attention in the wrong direction."
Delay their response and hit them where they were weak. There was a time for glory and there was a time for wisdom. We raid the church and everything along the path, get in and get out with our spoils. The fire would be a good distraction and to prevent us from being followed. Simple and clean.
"A shadow walking," Thorkell remarked, scratching at his cheek. "These things only hinge on the shadow walker surviving to get the job done and we don't have to worry about that with you. Aye, makes sense to me."
Hallstien laughed, "This will be a first for me! It shall be interesting fighting with you, Wolf-Kissed. Aye, I agree to this plan."
Good. All that was left was for them to wait. And for me to enter the city.
Quest: Sack the city
Rewards: 2000 Tactics exp and Prestige.
Additional Objective: Go undetected in your sabotage of its defenses.
Additional Reward: 500 Plotting exp.
…
"I don't want to be eaten…!" A small child wailed at the top of his lungs as he walked with his mother along the dirt streets, one hand in hers while she carried a basket against her hip. Fat tears dropped down his cheeks, and stumbling as he walked. His mother looked down at him, opening her mouth to say something, but swallowing it down.
"Hush, William," she chided as they walked past me. "No one will be eaten. I promise you that. King Charlemagne and his brave paladins will protect us from the heathens. I promise you, darling." The words did little to reassure the child and from the sound of it, the Frank woman was reassuring herself as much as she was her child.
Continuing past them, I drank in the city as the sun began to make its descent. I wore Frankish clothing and kept a scarf around my neck to hide the scar. Getting into the outer town had been easy. There were no sentries to speak of. Which left me time to explore the town to find the most direct path into the inner city. The wall itself had six holes from what I could see -- all from the walls being dismantled to build houses. Of those six, two were half complete but the other four were barely started.
The crews working them were about twenty people each. Labors with one overseer -- a few would deliver the stone, the rest would work to lay the stone, while the overseer barked orders the entire time. There were four gates to the walls as well, all left open, but all were guarded by about a dozen men.
Making a decision, I approached the overseer. He was a portly man, with thinning hair, but he wore marked better clothing than everyone around him. "Serah, I want to help build the wall to protect us from the heathens! But my Ma' says I have to help her with chores. Could I come back tonight and help build with the night shift?" I questioned, looking up at the man, who had a brief expression of annoyance until he looked at me.
"I- you do your king proud, young man. As well as your family, but there is no night shift. Go on to your mother, young one. She has need of you more than us," he remarked and I bobbed my head in a nod, and the scowl wasn't entirely fake. Was he saying that there wasn't a night shift because there wasn't one, or because I was a child in his eyes? I would need to keep an eye on that, but from what I saw, it would mean little. A fast attack would blow past them with ease.
Once I was out of sight, I headed to one of the gates and passed under it to enter the inner city. The roads were still dirt, but all of the buildings were made of stone, all pressed together and whitewashed. Most were two stories, each sectioned off in a grid pattern, which made the building that broke this pattern obvious. One of the barracks was a long building that was half open to serve as a stable. A couple dozen horses by the look of things. Hard to say what number I would be looking at in terms of guards, but I had overestimated what to expect by a decent margin.
The barrack and the towers at the walls. Altogether they might have… two hundred? Maybe more? Maybe less? In theory, we would be evenly matched, but that wasn't really the case. If I could do something to halt the guards in the barrack and in the watchtower near where I was going, then it would be two hundred against fifty to a hundred. Far better odds. I needed to take as much risk as I could upon myself. I needed to look at it as the more I killed, the less danger my men were in.
Making a mental note about that, I made my way up to the church and… "What deal did King Charlemagne make with the dwarves?" I wondered quietly to myself, looking at the building. It was a large building, just like the one that was in Cologne, but this one was even more decadent. If that were possible. Large stained glass windows, engravings on the stone that were in turn painted, depicting stories from the bible. With the doors open, I saw that the interior was rich. The walls were painted, gold and silver aplenty, the smell of something sweet coming from within.
It was worrying, in truth. If the dwarves favored King Charlemagne so clearly, they could pose an unexpected ally to the Frankish King. The dwarves were said to have little interest in the world above, preferring to toil in their vast underground kingdoms, but… if they would ever rise to the surface, it seemed like it would be for King Charlemagne. At any rate, it was something to keep an eye on.
Looking away from the splendor, I made my plan. My men were waiting on my signal, so I went back to the fringes of the city and started to collect stones and met up with a runner that would get everyone in position. Making an arrow after stomping them into the ground, people just laughed when I said it was to avoid getting lost. If my youth hindered me, then it could also help me.
I made my paths all the way up to the church, picking the path of least resistance. For the barracks and the tower walls, that was actually easier. Purchasing several jugs of wine had been expensive, but I would more than make up the wealth. Positioning them on top of the wood roofing? Easy enough. Waiting for the sun to descend and quietly moving a wagon and barricading the door? Little more tricky, but it was no issue.
All that was left was the bell, which I saved for last. I heard it ring out, calling for curfew as I climbed up the tower. It was shockingly easy, I found. The engravings offered plenty of handholds, and my strength gave me a rather firm grip. I thought I might have been scared when I looked down, but my heart beat steadily in my chest, focusing on the task at hand. In no time at all, I was inside the bell tower itself, finding it empty except for a brass bell. It was a bit bigger than I thought it would be, but nothing that I couldn't handle.
Taking out a piece of cloth and wrapping it around the piece of metal inside of the bell, I grabbed hold of the rope that turned it and cut it off with the edge of my axe. Using that rope to give me more cushioning, I grabbed hold of the brass clapper and gave a harsh pull. For a moment, I thought I would rip the entire thing off the wood block it was sat on, but the clapper gave way without the rest of the bell. Meaning that it was useless.
All that was left was to take out a torch that I had brought along with me -- a stick wrapped in some rags that were soaked in wine. Catching a spark with a piece of flint, the torch went up in a blaze. Grabbing it, I turned to the direction of my raiders and waved it back and forth. The signal for them to attack.
In response, I saw a handful of fires spark up in the distance, only barely visible because of my elevation. They became more visible when they were used to set arrows alight just before they were let loose to fall upon the city on the opposite end. Taking from their cue, I lifted the bow and arrow I had on my back -- also purchased inside of the city from an old hunter -- taking an arrow, I used the torch to light the rag I tied around it. Taking aim at the wine jugs on the barrack roof, I fired.
The flaming arrow sailed through the air, smashing into the wine jugs, and instantly the roof was on fire. Doing the same at the guard tower, I heard sounds of panic as people started to realize that they were under attack. I could see my men running through the space between the forest and the city, heading straight for the paths that I had marked. They would get in easily enough from what I saw.
Bonus Objective Complete!
Bonus Reward: 500 Plotting exp.
I paid the notification no mind beyond noting that I was eligible for my first Intrigue perk, because the door to the tower was hurriedly opened. It flung to the side, revealing a monk. Drab brown robes with an odd-looking haircut -- his hair was long, but his scalp was cut short. His eyes widened dramatically, "W-Wait-" he started, only to be silenced by my axe hacking into his neck. Grabbing him by the robe, I dragged him in while the sounds of panic were starting to grow. Closing the door behind him, I used his corpse to block it. It wouldn't work forever, but it would give me more time to react the next time someone tried to ring the bell.
Setting my two quivers to the side, I looked down into the city to see how it was reacting. There was a lot of confusion from what I could see. People thought the panic was because of the fires, but people didn't yet know that the fires happened because of an attack. There were sounds of panic that were coming up from the other side as my warriors entered the city, but they were intermingled with the calls of fire. The guard was reacting, however. A handful of them here and there were trying to figure out where they were supposed to go.
Taking aim with my bow and arrow, I lined up a shot before letting the arrow leap from my bow. It was nearly invisible in the air for but a moment before it reappeared in the back of the head of a guard that was barking orders to get the barrack open. The eight or so guards looking at him went bloodless, throwing up their shields, but they were clueless to where the arrow came from. Arrows leaped from my bow as the attack commenced in earnest. My warriors were cutting a swath through the city, attacking a meager defense in a two pronged attack. They didn't need my help, even if they did receive it.
The door opened again -- another monk. Killing him made my barrier stronger and gave me more time to fire at the guards that were going to the gates and holes in the city wall or tried to put out the fire that was slowly spreading. Panic had settled in for the most part, but most of the city didn't know it was under attack yet, though that wouldn't last. More and more people survived coming across my men and shouted about them as they fled, or guessed the city was under attack themselves. That was fine with me. As the guards formed up, I dropped them.
"The church! They're in the church!" I heard someone scream in horror, the words reaching me. I soon spotted the one who said them, the one that figured out where the arrows were coming from. Guards and people were flooding into the church as a place of refuge, as they always did. It was a young man, brown hair and green eyes, a few years older than me. As if he sensed his death incoming, he dived behind the nearest piece of cover, protecting himself from me.
Instead, I dropped a guard that was next to him, my last arrow spent. Dropping my bow, I pulled out my axes to address the shoving at the door as more people tried to ring the alarm. Ripping the door open, I batted away a panicked thrust from a guardsman before splitting his skull with an axe. Shoving him forward, there were shouts of heathen coming from below. The body acted as a shield from another guard, knocking him off balance enough that I could leap over him to land on the corner step. Hacking at his neck and killing him swiftly, I started making my way down the stairs.
"They're in the building! They're in the building!" The shouts of panic were harsh as more guards surged up the stairs, only to find their death. It was almost as if they were attacking me one at a time, and because of it, they had no hope. I slaughtered my way down the stairs, my face doused in a fine spray of blood while it dripped in rivers from my axes. Stepping through the door, I saw that the lavish church had a number of people in it. Citizens and guards alike. Not as many as there normally would be, but from the sounds of fighting outside, I'm guessing that they felt pressured to close the doors early.
A handful of guards rushed toward me and they faltered when I did the same. People sobbed and cried out in horror as I desecrated their church, spilling blood upon the stone floor and splattering the walls with Frankish blood. I carved a line through to the door that was being pounded at. Axes rather than fists by the sound of it. The half dozen men that were trying to barricade the door with their bodies died in position, allowing me to swing the doors wide open.
“Wolf-Kissed!” Hallstein greeted me, his face wet with blood, contrasting the wide smile on his face. His dark eyes were alive with excitement and joy as my raiders poured into the church to take everything of value. “Your plan worked! Hahahaha! Loved by the gods indeed! HAHA!” He shouted, diving into the thick of the looting.
“Remember! No thralls!” I shouted after those that entered with a shake of my head to find that they weren’t listening. It reminded me of my first raid, I realized. The moment the looting started happening, any cohesion immediately evaporated like mist under the sun. Leaving us open to counterattacks.
It was hard to believe that it was only half a year ago that I was on my first raid. I watched it all happen, curling my lips in distaste, thinking that the moment I was in charge, I would do things differently. Well, I was in charge and I was seeing the exact same issues. A failure on my part. Or perhaps it was the arrogance of the ignorant. I wasn’t sure yet. I wouldn't know until I tried to do things a bit differently. If only to make sure we didn’t lose anyone to a stab in the back while they were looting.
“How dare you!” I heard someone scream a split second before a cup nearly nailed me in the head. A woman was getting held back by a few of my warriors, her clothing marking her as a nun, but the expression on her face was anything but peaceful. Tears gathered in her eyes, her face was a furious snarl as she lunged against the two warriors, who laughed. “How dare you attack the sacred city of Worms? King Charlemagne himself is a patron to this church!”
So little time, but I felt like a very different person. On my first raid, I would have looked at her with shame. Or been unable to meet her eyes at all. However, the words of my Father echoed in my ears, ringing with a truth that I couldn’t deny. The strong did what they wished and the weak could do nothing to stop them.
“Worms?” I questioned, frowning at the woman, who stopped struggling. “Hm. I thought this was Mannheim,” I admitted, feeling a bit foolish. I attacked the wrong city. One that wasn’t on the map. That was frustrating, but the frustration was washed away with the sight of my men carrying off valuables.
“You… what kind of monster are you? How could you make light of this? Do you feel nothing in your heart?!” She demanded of me, thrashing in the grip of the men as she lunged for me again.
“I imagine it must be easy to always decide when you’re right,” I refuted, gesturing for the men to rejoin the looting. The woman, to her credit, seized her chance. She had courage. She charged for me, but it was a clumsy thing. Sticking out a foot to trip her was easy enough, and she fell to the floor. “From the stories I’ve heard, the people we’ve killed here pale to the numbers you Franks slaughtered when you conquered Saxony.”
“The heathens needed to see the light of God! It was a noble quest for the salvation of their souls!” She protested, getting up until I pressed the edge of my axe into her throat. She reached up and grasped it and in doing so, she revealed her hands. Calloused. Not what you expect from a nun that only had to… I don’t know. Sit around all day. Whatever nuns did, I suppose.
“As I said -- how very convenient that when you slaughter men, women, and children, it's for a noble cause. But when we do it, it's because we’re monsters,” I refuted and, despite herself, I could see the words struck a mark. “Your hands. You’re an archer,” I remarked, gesturing to the callouses. On one hand, the pads of her fingers were calloused, but on the other, only the tips of two fingers were.
“I am a nun,” She argued, seemingly more unhappy with me now that I found that out judging by how she closed her hands.
“Do you know this land well?” I questioned, and she curled her lips, knowing what I wanted. I wanted a guide so I didn’t end up attacking the wrong city. Again. That was… really embarrassing, now that I think about it. I should have asked around or something. Hopefully, none of my men would figure it out and everyone would just think that we sacked Mannheim.
“Never. I’d sooner lead you to the gates of Hell!” She declared, shouting the words out with no fear. To prove her point, she pushed up against the edge of my axe, uncaring of the small cut that dripped a drop of crimson blood down her pale neck.
I smiled at that. Brave indeed. “I imagine you’ll have to get in line,” I told her, removing the blade from her neck. She was courageous. She didn’t balk at the prospect of death. It felt like a shame to kill her here and now, defenseless. I didn’t know her name or her circumstances, but in her chest beat the heart of a warrior. She deserved a warrior's death.
“I’m going to kill you,” she declared, her lip trembling ever so slightly.
“Good luck.”
Comments
HadrianBurger
I don't think you quite understand that this is a piece of historical fiction. The MC is someone from the time period. This is what happened in the time period. He doesn't have modern morals because he isn't modern
Kabir Kumar
Yeah, I thought this would be when he would stop the men raping or something. What's the point of having power, if he's not using it for what he wants, other than furthering revenge?
Kabir Kumar
I hope not. Harems are boring and annoying
Josh Snider
It would be hilarious if Jill and Morrigan spend the time when he's away fighting over him and then he comes back with a new girl.
Josh Snider
Christians already have 800 years of pseudophilosophy by this point. The only new argument he has is that he might be able to prove his gods are real.
Pyry
The MC is slowly becoming unsympathetic.
Maleficarum
I can’t wait for the theological and cultural debates that slowly make her question her religion and peopl.
Gigifiy
Right? My first thought too
xPYROTECHx
And in those days, child was only like 12 and below. Anyone older is a young man/woman
Draconic Hermit
A Nun who's an Archer, is a fierce believer in her God, is (probably) an Ancestor of the French if I read my history about the Franks right and has that accent that did things to most people as a result of that heritage. Leliana is that you?
Boyo
Another great chapter
Anonykor
God, it must have sucked to be a child in medieval times. I can't even imagine.
