Legends Never Die: The Price for Ambition (ch. 71) (Patreon)

Michalis had managed his task nicely, I would soon learn. Even if I was left with the question of who really sent the assassin after me. They had certainly taken a risk -- an arrow in the middle of a play with dancing elephants was far less subtle than poison. Which made me wonder if this was truly the first such attempt on my life while I was in the Roman Empire. Had there been other attempts and I simply hadn’t noticed? Iron Stomach would make me immune to poison, but I imagined I would at least notice if I had been.

On the other side of the argument, it could have simply been orchestrated by someone that had little access to me or servants. They couldn’t find an opportunity to poison me, so they found a small window of opportunity to shoot me with an arrow. Or try to, at least. I wasn’t entirely sure which one I believed, but I was inclined to believe the latter. If it was, then it narrowed down the suspects a little. High nobility, or the wealthy, would have easy access to the servants.

But if it was someone that, say, couldn’t speak the language, but could slip in and out of the shadows, then the attempt made more sense. I had no proof that it was the Abbasids that sent the assassin, but it made sense to me. I was their greatest obstacle when it came to taking Crete before launching their invasion. Then again, I would expect the Abbasids to send a competent assassin -- someone that could blend in with the locals.

“Too many people want me dead,” I mused to myself as I found myself sitting in Michalis’ villa within Constantinople. It wasn’t anything extravagant, at least not by the standards that I had seen so far from the Romans, but it was a clear indication of just how well he had done for himself with our alliance. The room that I sat in was a lounge -- white marble floors and walls, tapestries hanging from the walls, finely crafted furniture, with silk curtains hanging before a window. In the corner was a servant with her head held low, a pitcher of silver in her hands.

The words weren’t directed at her. They were directed at Michalis, who lounged in a chair across from me, looking perfectly at home with his wealth. Morrigan sat next to me, appearing faintly interested in the finery that surrounded us, but by this point, she had built up more of a resistance to displays of wealth. It was difficult not to when we were constantly surrounded by it.

“You are a rising star in the great game,” Michalis praised, swirling a cup of wine as he gazed into it. “Among your people, it’s played very differently. You, I imagine, are their ideal leader. Or their god,” He added, his tone idle as his gaze flickered to mine. He spoke freely in Norse, but I detected an odd note in his tone. Uncertainty. “In this land, the game is played quite differently. Not only are you a foreigner rising high, you are rising high with violence and wealth rather than cunning and subtlety. At least, as far as most are aware.”

I hummed, considering Michalis for a moment. I was detecting a change within him. It was a subtle thing, but before he was a bundle of nerves hidden underneath a layer of ambition. He was more confident now. He spoke to me more easily. However, holding his gaze, I wasn’t entirely sure that was a good thing. Our current relationship worked because he was reliant on me to help cultivate his influence, and now… by all signs, he was able to cultivate his own influence.

It wasn’t a bad change necessarily. It could even be a good change. It was, however, a change, and it would take time to see if it was in my interest or not.

“Hm. What of Chares?” I prompted, curious how this would go. To that, a sly and cruel smile tugged at Michalis’ lips.

“After his failed attempt to assassinate you, he has been called into questioning. A servant confessed under torture to attempting to kill you in his name,” He explained and I swallowed a retort. The news wasn’t a surprise. By virtue of blaming Chares, I was aware that we would be pinning a crime on one of his would-be assassins. Still, I couldn’t say I cared for it. The servant might have served my enemy, but that didn’t necessarily make him my enemy. “Things are lining up quite nicely. His friends are abandoning him like rats on a sinking ship, the few that he still has. Even should he survive the brief trial, it is clear that he is out of favor.”

I hummed again, “If?” I prompted, making Miachalis incline his head to me.

“Chares is not nobility. He has wealth, true, but no noble bearing. In truth, while he had money and influence at court… in a way, he is in a similar position as you. When he was useful, the nobility allowed him to curry favor, but now that he’s falling from grace, they are quick to give him the boot. To them he was only ever a jumped up merchant with delusions of grandeur who thought he was a member of high society.” Michalis explained, and it sounded like that was a sentiment that he shared with the court.

Still, it was a good reminder. I had found favor with Empress Dowager Irene, but it was on the condition that I won. I had little reason to expect that I would lose, but that condition was there all the same. “When is this trial? I have not been asked to speak,” I pointed out, finally reaching out to the wine glass that had been set before me. The wine was a dark red -- taking a sip, I found that it was nice, but I still preferred ale or mead.

“Nor will you,” Michalis stated with a small shrug. “You are a pagan. Any words or oaths that you make would be cast into doubt because you cannot swear to God.” His tone was blunt, making me frown. He wasn’t wrong, but it was still annoying to hear. “You may be called as a witness, but it’s unlikely.”

“A witness?” Morrigan echoed, her tone light and amused. “T’is a curious thing to be called in as a witness to an attempt on one’s own life, is it not?”

To that, Michalis winced ever so slightly but he remained firm. “It would. Which is why Lord Siegfried would be called in as a witness to the attempt on my life,” he said, avoiding my gaze. “Though, that would be most unlikely as there is already a witness -- of how Lord Siegfried saved me by catching the arrow that would have struck me dead.”

It wasn’t a bad change to the story. It would probably work better considering all that he said -- Irene's favor or not, I was still a pagan to these people. The issue was that Michalis didn’t tell me of the change he made to the story. He didn’t consult me, much less ask. It was…

He wasn't one of my men. He wasn't a vassal either. In the end, it was more of a partnership than anything, even if the balance of power was heavily in my favor. I never required him to clear every action that he took before, but this was a little different. This was an attempt of assassination, and the defeat of a mutual enemy. He should have known better than to keep me uninformed and the only reason he would was because he was deliberately hiding the information from me.

Like a dog pulling at his leash.

“So long as Chares is done for, then I care little,” I said, admitting that much. I just needed him defeated and crushed before the war started. Because when it did, I would be too busy for him and he would regain his footing. Michalis seemed relieved to hear that, though he hid it well. That told me that he knew he overstepped. “When can I expect the sentencing?”

“Shortly. Perhaps today, even. A confession, witnesses -- the judge has all that he needs to pass a sentence even without his various enemies bribing him.” Hm. A perversion of justice. “I shall send a messenger when I hear anything more.” He offered before he shifted in his seat, and I saw that calculating look enter his eye. “With Chares’ fall from grace, there is a number of matters that we should discuss.”

Greed. I've always known of it, and it had served me well, but I saw that Michalis’ greed was starting to get the better of him. He was getting drunk on success. I could find no other reason why he was so loose lipped, “We shall divide his assets -- his properties, his businesses… the latter should be relocated to Norland. It's a risk, I will admit, but it will strengthen the town's importance as a trade port.”

Hm… he was telling me what we should do. It was a fair idea. Some of the businesses wouldn't be able to make the journey -- there were no vineyards for wine, after all. However, weavers, dyers, and so on could find a home in Norland.

“To what end?” Morrigan spoke my thoughts out loud, leveling a harsh stare at Michalis.

He seemed a little put out, “As I understood it, you wish your settlement to be prosperous?” He asked without really asking, his gaze flickering to me.

“Remarkable. What an astute observation,” Mortigan replied, her voice dry and sarcastic. “That is obvious enough. I ask what is your motivation for ensuring our settlement prospers?”

He scowled, “We had a bargain, did we not? You help me and with my rise, I help you in return. Is it so hard to believe that I merely wish to uphold my end of the bargain?” he asked, sounding vaguely insulted. Except he was lying.

“No,” I told him and, for a moment, he seemed pleased. “But you are an ambitious man. In my experience, ambitious men look beyond merely repaying a favor.” It was a light rebuke, but it was one all the same. Michalis was not an honorable man. If he was, then I could believe that he was repaying a debt owed.

Michalis was a man motivated by greed. The only reason why he would be so willing to help me was because he got something out of it. Being so… proactive? It was suspicious.

Michalis looked down into his wine, clearly annoyed that his motivation was called out. He didn't seem particularly surprised, however. “I had hoped to save this conversation for a later date,” he began, taking a sip of his wine, “But perhaps having it now would be better.” he held out his empty wine glass for the servant to refill and she did so soundlessly. I fought off a frown, waiting for him to begin.

“You have made it clear that you do not intend to stay in Rome. All of court has heard your intentions -- five years, at the most.” He started and I nodded, getting an inkling where the conversation was going. “That calls into question what shall be done with what you leave behind. Norland is shaping up to be one of the most important ports in the Mediterranean. An important stop gap between the Romans and the Abbasids.”

I had given the matter some thought. “It is Lord Mimir’s domain. I was merely allowed to cultivate the land,” I pointed out and Michalis inclined his head to me.

“In accordance with the law, that is correct but when wealth gets involved… the law acts as more of a guideline,” he stated and I fought off a scowl. It was hardly shocking, but I still found it distasteful. I wasn't above it, even if I refused to allow it to bind my hands when it came to clear enemies… but to break it to sate one's greed was distasteful. “Chanxi was an unimportant settlement. Crete was unimportant. By the time you leave, it will be a prosperous port with a strong military presence. I cannot ascertain what, precisely, his imperial majesty intends to do with it but… whoever is given rulership over Norland with your departure shall become a rich and powerful lord.”

And Michalis wanted it. I could understand why easily enough. We were working through the list of people responsible for his family's fall from grace, and earning back his family lands. Provided I finished the quest before I left for home, Norland was going to be rather prosperous.

Michalis wasn't finished. “With the favor you curry with the Empress Dowager… a word from you could heavily tilt her thoughts to whoever you name should inherit,” he continued.

“It's something that I've put some thought into,” I told him. I entertained possibilities of keeping it as a friendly outpost. That wasn't practical. I intended to take everyone with me when we left, but I imagine the warm climate would appeal to some. “One of my men can't hold it. There wouldn't be a point. The crown would just take it. Or force a conversion.” I was barely tolerated before I found the favor of the Empress Dowager. Whoever I left behind to hold the settlement wouldn't be so lucky.

“They would be an outsider,” Michalis agreed, trying to not give away his intentions, unaware that I already knew them.

“I've also thought about tearing it all down,” I continued and I saw Michalis’ blood freeze in his veins. “It could prove too tempting for some of my men. I don't intend to leave behind half of my army when it comes time to set sail. Tear down the walls, the homes, disperse the population… burn the bridge behind us. I'd rather that then let some pompous Roman benefit from my work.”

Michalis was reeling, almost on the verge of panic that he barely managed to swallow down. “That would be-”

“Or,” I interjected. “I thought I could sell it,” I said, holding his gaze. “Sell the businesses, sell the buildings, and land. I won't have any further use of it. I could use the money and materials for my arrival in Denmark.” I had burnt through a great deal of our savings, but we were making a steady profit now that everything was up and running. We could look to slowly raising the tariffs and having a trade good sourced in the town would be welcomed -- I wanted to leave Rome with a sizable amount of wealth.

Michalis licked his lips, “How much?”

“Five thousand pounds of gold, or the value of trade goods equal to that,” I answered and Michalis couldn't have looked more shocked if I smacked him across the face. “The settlement is not yet worth that much, but it will be by the time that I leave.”

“T-Thats a king's ransom ten times over,” Michalis protested weakly. “The only one that could afford that would be the crown,” he protested, trying and failing to keep the frustration out of his voice. He wasn't wrong there. It was a rather sizable sum. However, if the ledger held true, it wouldn't take more than fifteen years for the settlement to pay itself off.

I set my wine glass down and stood, “Because we are allies, I will tell you this -- the most valuable thing Rome has for me is knowledge. I'd go as far as to say that an exceptionally skilled architect or tradesmen would be worth their weight in gold.” I saw an understanding flash in his expression and he offered a small nod to me.

He didn't thank me as we left his villa, his mind burdened with what we spoke of. Almost as soon as we stepped outside of his villa, which was located in one of the finer parts of the city, a place that was reserved for the homes of nobility, which Michalis still was even if he was landless, Morrigan attached herself to my arm, and I glanced down at her. “I'm surprised that you didn't say that we should stay.”

Morrigan huffed at the prospect as we made our way through the streets, the celebration still ongoing. Though, at day ten, it was starting to wind down from a constant affair to being contained in certain areas. “Michalis is a greedy fool with eyes bigger than his stomach, but he was right about one thing -- you cannot thrive here. Not as you would in the north,” she stated and I was a little surprised by the concern.

Morrigan was greedy herself, with a love of finery and luxury. And from what I had seen, no place had more of that than Constantinople.

She seemed to find my surprise insulting because she drove a fist between my ribs, making me wince even if it didn't hurt. “In the north, you are more than an outsider. Depending on what tales that are spun, you will be a god returning from a different world, rich beyond belief. More powerful than any petty Jarl or King. T’is for my own sake you must return. How else shall you properly repay me what was promised.” She said with a sly smile and I found myself chuckling as we made our way through the city, finding ourselves drawn by a crowd of people sweeping to some performance.

“Aye, true enough,” I agreed with a small smile. A promise of home and hearth. That was the promise Morrigan extracted from me. A promise that I’ve upheld so far, but it seemed she was intent on truly wringing me for all that I was worth.

“This war just needs to hurry up and be done with, then I can focus on-” I started, only to cut myself off when I saw what the crowd was being drawn to. An execution. Even during such a festive mood, there were still crimes. And there were few things people loved more than a public execution. A platform was set up for it with a number of nooses.

I would have kept on walking if it wasn’t for the periodic use of True Sight to make sure that there wasn’t an assassin in the crowd. A blood red caught my attention in the corner of my expanded vision, prompting me to look up at the platform.

Where Chares was having a noose put around his neck.

“That was fast,” I muttered under my breath, finding myself conflicted. I don’t think that I could even blame this on Michalis -- someone other than me clearly wanted him dead and they swept the entire process along. It had been a week since the assassination attempt and only a day since Chares had been arrested. No, not even a day -- it was closer to twelve hours.

“Power attracts enemies like honey with flies,” Morrigan noted, sounding unsurprised. “When an enemy falls, t’is most unwise to give them a chance to stand again. Or, perhaps, it is being done as a favor to you?” Morrigan questioned and I had absolutely no idea. I saw her gaze flickering about, examining the threads that bound people, but if she saw anything of note, she didn’t share it.

This wasn’t what I expected. I thought that I would at least get a chance to speak to him one last time. Taunt him with the information of what destroyed him. It was an unworthy desire, but I felt it keenly. Mostly because of Horrik, I suspected. Chares was an enemy, and one that I had to vanquish, but I wondered if I would have chosen this course of action if it wasn’t for my true enemy? Was Chares just a stand in for him?

I wouldn’t ever know, I suppose, watching as he closed his eyes. He faced his death better than most, his lips moving with what I recognized as a prayer. The crowd was baying for his blood -- they knew nothing of him beyond that he was fat. And there were fewer things that a crowd loved more than watching the mighty be toppled.

The other criminals on the row were lined up and their noose secured. A half dozen in total. Then, with a single pull of a lever… the bench that they had been standing on was pulled out from underneath them. Chares’ weight worked in his favor, I saw. His neck snapped with the jerking of the rope while the skinnier of the half dozen were left thrashing about as they choked.

My gaze lingered on Chares’ body for a long moment, searching my feelings. There was satisfaction -- he had insulted my family. He had insulted my wife. He had insulted me. Yet, as I looked at the body swaying in the air beyond a roaring crowd…

I had to wonder. Was an insult really worth killing over?

…

Looking back on this arc, I feel like I got a little lost in the sauce when it came to the politics and meandered a bit. So, up next is a rather short war and then we can get back to the city building and learning.