Legends Never Die: Refugee in Audacity (ch. 73) (Patreon)

Disembarking was a long and time consuming affair. The settlement of Fajr was in good order, as it had been when Hadi left it some months ago. Five thousand men remained in it to secure their foothold, and they welcomed their countrymen with open arms. Hadi found himself rather busy taking stock of the situation -- collecting spy reports that had yet to be sent to him, inspecting the damage that the fire ship had done to their fleet, and steeling himself for everything to come.

The damage done to the fleet was severe, but it could have been worse. A dozen ships were burnt, and they lost around two thousand men. A harsh number, but their forces were more than replenished by the soldiers holding Fajr. The greater issue was the loss of the horses. While their army was not particularly reliant on cavalry, it was still a great inconvenience -- of the twenty-three thousand men, only four thousand were cavalry, with around five hundred of them being scouts. However, they lost a great many horses. Enough so that of the four thousand, only one in eight had a horse.

Food was a similar issue, but less so. An army of over twenty thousand men ate truly staggering amounts of food a day, and while they had brought a significant amount with them -- hard bread, salted meat, oats, barley, and grain -- the loss of a single supply ship was punishing. Crete lacked plentiful foraging, which meant they would have to turn to fishing to help keep the army fed. By Hadi's calculations, they had enough food for about two weeks, a fair amount of time given that it was expected that they would forage.

Once the army was fully disembarked, the ships would return to Acre, filled up with food, and when the army was ready to march, they would then sail into Anatolia. Assuming that everything went to plan, that was.

“What news do you bring us, Lord Hadi?” Prince Harun questioned as they assembled in an upper class house. It wasn't fit to be called a villa or manor, but it was the closest thing they had in the settlement. The war council was fully assembled with the prince seated at the head of the table, Yahya Birkhmid standing to his right while Emir Muhammad was seated at his left. There were other nobility seated between them, but they were of a lesser concern at the moment.

“My prince, Chania has been evacuated -- the inhabitants, the few left, are in Norland. Additionally, a fire ship wasn't all that the Romans saw fit to give them. Norland is reinforced by two thousand levies,” Hadi answered, passing the strips of parchment or cloth that the information was written on down. Reinforcements weren't ideal, but it either spoke of the Romans confidence that they sent so few, or their inability to send more. “The walls have been completed, both outer and inner. Furthermore, a pitch has been dug out before the walls. Interestingly, it seems that the slaves taken have been released from their bondage upon completion of the works.”

Seigfried didn't trust his slaves, it seemed. A fair concern given that they were former soldiers and their countrymen were here. That being said, Hadi didn't have any expectations for them in battle. Siegfried had given them months of hard labor to build the settlement, and any strength that they had left wouldn't amount to much in battle.

“The reinforcements change nothing. We still outnumber them three to one,” Emir Muhammad spoke up, earning some nods. Prince Harun offered nothing in response. “Walls hastily made are flawed. I say that we teach them this -- March our men to this fort, tear down these godless fortifications, while we attack from the sea. The Pagan does not have the numbers to match us.” A full assault.

It wasn't a bad plan. It was pretty spot on for what they intended when they first sailed to Norland, but that was before it became a city that was now defended by seven thousand men- Hadi frowned in thought, and to his cursed luck, Prince Harun noticed.

“You disagree?” The prince asked and the Emir looked like he wished he had arms long enough to reach down the table to strangle him.

Hadi didn't particularly care about the war. Win, lose -- it was all the same to him. However, what did concern him rather greatly was the prospect of getting his head ripped off by the Pagan. “My Prince, my lords… Seigfried is a man of action. I have listened closely to the tales, and I have heard second hand accounts of his battles. The information is less ironclad than I would like, but it is enough to establish a pattern… and that pattern is that Siegfried has only twice, fought defensively. The first time, he was but a boy under the command of another, and the second was not of his own volition.”

Emir Muhammad looked at him as if he had grown a second head, “You say he will attack? An army three times his number? When he has walls?” He questioned, playing up his doubts to discredit him. “I can't tell who would be more mad -- the Pagan, or you.”

It was incredibly frustrating to admit that he had a point. It was madness to attack an army many times the size of your own when you had a perfectly serviceable defensive position. Only Hadi had studied his enemy, and he had studied him well. Siegfried was an offensive fighter. An aggressive one. He attacked, and when he gave ground, it was to secure a position that would further enable his offensive.

“I do agree with the general sentiment of Emir Muhammad’s plan,” Hadi said, his tone placating as he swallowed much sharper words. He had an in with the Prince, which was a horrid thought, but if the rest of the lords didn't like him… they could tip the scales against sound advice. Because it didn't matter how sound it was. Prince Harun couldn't alienate most of his supporters as his actions reflected the crown and his family. “We besiege the settlement by land and sea, but we should maintain a reserve in Fajr to secure our food and ships.”

The military wasn’t all that different from politics, rather unfortunately. It required saying the right things the right way to the right person at the right time. Those out of favor had their voices drowned out, and suffered sabotage when it came to supplies and even orders. So, as much as he would like to scream at the top of his lungs, he had to adapt his approach to the general consensus. He could survive standing out, but he would not survive standing against the will of the nobility.

“However, I would recommend a larger force to remain behind. Say… five thousand men. In addition, I would recommend building up defenses for our camp outside of Norland,” he added. The first part was already within expectations, just increasing from two thousand to five. He could make solid arguments for it -- securing more food, greater security for their fodder and their ships. The second part, Hadi knew, would rub them the wrong way. “The Pagan is audacious, and fortune has favored him for it. I would not expect him to leave Norland defenseless, but it would be well within his character to keep… a thousand men outside the settlement. All for the sake of prodding us and making our siege painful.”

Hadi almost cried in relief when he saw Prince Harun nod slowly, “Allah smiles upon those who do not invite disaster into their homes. These measures are prudent and cost us nothing,” he spoke in favor of them, which meant no one could speak against them. “We shall take ten thousand men to besiege Norland, ten ships will arrange themselves outside of the harbor, and the remainder shall remain here to be called upon as needed.” Meaning that the split was roughly what Hadi had sought.

Then the Prince stood, “We shall depart immediately. Ready the men,” he instructed and the war council broke up. Prince Harun took further counsel from Yahya, leaving Hadi free of any obligations.

Already, he felt the cold wind coming from the rest of the nobility. Too high, Hadi thought, as he made his way back to the few he could call allies. His father was an ambitious man, but a cautious one. A rise to power must happen over a long period of time. To rise too quickly was to invite disaster -- the high nobility would turn their nose up in disgust at low nobility grasping for a higher station, while the lower nobility would be fiercely jealous of one of their own rising so high. Staggering the rise over the course of generations would be far easier to swallow by both ends of the court.

He found his brother Naeem speaking to Zafir, both men noticing his approach. Alim, however, seemed content drawing… what seemed to be Nordic script in the sand. Hadi paid it little mind as he closed in on his brother, and Naeem seemed to recognize his expression. “What did you do?”

Hadi couldn't even pretend to be offended. “I spoke too freely,” he admitted. “The situation is not so terrible that it can't be overturned… but only once we encounter Siegfried. Until then, I find myself with enemies.” Hopefully, the Pagan will kill some of them. Not enough to leave Hadi in a position of power, but just enough to make it clear to the others that Hadi was right all along. It may not soothe their ruffled feathers, but it would prevent them from acting.

“I ache to face him in battle,” Zafir muttered, grabbing hold of his scimitar by the hilt. “He is a great warrior, this is true, but I must wash out the stain he put upon my honor.” That had been the price Hadi negotiated to prevent Zafir from killing himself. It wasn't a promise he had any intentions of fulfilling when he made it -- he just wanted someone who actually understood how a fleet was supposed to function around. Allah did love his jokes.

“We'll be setting out shortly. Ready yourself,” Hadi said, turning to his little brother. Who wasn't so little anymore. He wasn't a boy to be protected, but Hadi was loathe to put him in danger. “Naeem. You will ride beside me, but I want you to swear to me that you will not fight him.”

Naeem opened his mouth, but Hadi cut him off by grabbing him by the shoulders. “You won't win. Zafir won't win. I don't care if he's going to take my head, or the Prince's -- swear to me that you will not face him in battle.” Hadi had barely saw Siegfried fight in truth, but he couldn't forget it regardless. In the span of three breaths, three men were dead.

To Hadi's immense disappointment, Naeem shook his head. “I cannot be seen as a coward, brother. It would cost the family too much.” The family. Father's catch all excuse for using his children like pawns.

“It would cost the family more if you die,” Hadi argued, his lips thinning. Where was the safest place for Naeem? The settlement? The ships? The Prince’s side? All were in danger of being attacked by the Pagan.

“Then I shall not die,” Naeem replied with a cheeky smile, which slipped when Hadi didn't return it.

The fool. The only way Hadi could make sure he didn't get killed was if he kept Naeem in his view at all times.

“You won't, little brother. I shall make sure of it.”

…

The army set out by noon, marching overland towards the settlement of Norland. Hadi found himself accompanying the Prince and other nobility, but he was thankfully left out of the discussions. Purposely snubbed, Hadi thought, not minding one bit. It left him free to inspect the terrain. The land was arid with sand colored rocks. There was greenery to be found, but a great deal of it was sparse shrubbery.

The army marched slowly, Hadi found. Noon soon gave way to dusk as the terrain began to gently change. The large uneven plains gave way to rolling hills, which in turn gave way to cliffsides. Hadi eyed them with suspicion -- the scouts rode ahead, so an ambush was unlikely, but as the day wore on, Hadi found himself increasingly anxious.

Fears that were proven well founded when one of the scouts rode back with a message, “My Prince! The way is blocked!” The scout reported, making Hadi frown. Blocked? What did that mean? “The heathens have built a wall and earth works.”

One of the nobles that accompanied the prince turned to Hadi, “Did your spies not report this?” It was a rebuke, and one that Hadi found worrisome.

“They didn't. I would see this wall with my own eyes. Is it manned?” Hadi questioned, making the scout nod his head. That was…

“We could not get a good count, but there are at least a hundred of them there,” he informed and… Hadi felt uneasy. A manned wall… they weren't far away from Norland, but they weren't exactly close. At least a dozen to twenty miles away. With how slowly the army marched, they would need to camp for the night and arrive at noon on the morrow. A wall that far out made little sense tactically, and having a hundred men…

“He wishes to bleed us. He sacrifices his men to us to delay our journey,” Emir Muhammad spoke up, but it was Prince Harun that spoke next.

“Or they are bait. Lead the way,” he instructed, ushering his palanquin forward. The scout quickly nodded, leading them to the forefront of the army. It was then that Hadi saw the wall in question -- a palisade reinforced with earthworks and a ditch. No gate to speak of. It ran the length between two problematically steep hills. As the scout had informed, Hadi saw around a hundred men armed with bows and javelins upon the wall.

It didn't make sense, Hadi quickly decided, taking in the situation. The fortification wasn't so well situated that it was impossible to assail, it was just… annoying, if Hadi to call it something. They could climb the hill, but it would be bloody. Or…

“They tempt us to go around?” Prince Harun spoke, echoing his thoughts. The wall blocked off a path, but it was hardly the only one that led to Norland. “Have our scouts spread wide -- if the heathen army is waiting in ambush, then I will not be caught unaware.” Prince Harun, in large part, struck Hadi as a shy boy. Not particularly outspoken. However, Hadi was starting to see that underneath that shyness was a sharp mind and an iron will.

Emir Muhammad looked to Hadi, “It seems that the Pagan is as mad as you said.” He acknowledged, but it was a cold comfort. Hadi didn't like this entire situation. At all. Even if it was an ambush… it wouldn't be enough. They marched with fifteen thousand men. In the right circumstances, Hadi would say defeat was possible, but not these circumstances. A petty fortification, an ambush…

Hadi found himself digging a fingernail underneath the nail of his thumb, the pinching pain helping him focus as the awaited for the scouts report. The pagans jeered at them as they remained at a distance, but Hadi couldn't understand a word that they were saying. He could guess, though. He looked out at them, trying to see what their purpose was.

“Is it a delaying tactic?” Hadi muttered, closing his eyes in thought. He didn't know enough about the terrain, Hadi realized. Well, he knew enough about the terrain -- arid, dry, little forging in terms of berries or nuts -- but the shape of the terrain was largely a mystery to him.

“What say you?” Prince Harun questioned, looking at him with sharp eyes.

Hadi chewed on his thoughts for a moment more, “I fear it is a delaying tactic. I know little of the march there, but I do know there aren't many roads that can handle near twenty thousand men and our baggage train going down it. The Pagan may wish to force us down this road. Or, if we attack, we are still delayed and bloodied for it. A drop in the bucket, but still bloodied.” A win-win situation for them. The roads on the island were narrow, and the rocky soil made for treacherous footing -- it may be fine for the first give thousand men, but on the sixth, it could give way.

Still, it was a question of a delaying tactic for what-

An image flashed in Hadi’s mind. Siegfried jumping an impossible distance to attack a ship of warriors on his own. Bold. No, fearless. Siegfried would know the odds. He would know the numbers. He was unflinching from any danger and mighty enough to make the impossible possible.

What was the single most damaging thing that he could do to the army?

Hadi opened his eyes and looked to Prince Harun. Capturing or killing him would freeze the army in its tracks. A prince was a powerful hostage to have. Similarly, killing the majority of the nobility would lead to fracturing. But, they were all well guarded. Siegfried could not reach them without great cost, and the odds were not in his favor.

The second thing was…

“Our ships. Our food. That mad bastard is going to attack Fajr,” Hadi breathed as panic shot down his spine. He felt it in his bones, he was right. It would be a killing blow to an army of this size.

Emir Muhammad seemed vaguely concerned, “We left five thousand men in a walled settlement. Even if they left their own settlement empty, they could not hope to destroy our ships or supplies without destroying themselves.” He was right. Completely and utterly. That was exactly why he cautioned that they leave more men behind. “What Shiekh Hadi fears is a concern, but it is one that we have already mitigated.”

He was right. He was right, but Hadi still felt uncertain as he met Prince Harun's gaze.

And Prince Harun made the decision, “Take our cavalry and return to Fajr with haste, Sheikh Hadi. If nothing else, you can warn them of an impending attack,” He ordered and Hadi nodded curtly before breaking off. It was well handled, Hadi thought with some admiration -- he was dismissed without giving slight, while soothing any wounded pride on behalf of the nobility.

Hadi quickly did as he was ordered. The army itself decided to ignore the wall, heading down in a unified march down the other path. Meanwhile, he gathered up five hundred cavalry men and began to gallop the way that they came.

It was only an odd thirty miles, and he rode the horses hard. It was just over an hour later when he saw exactly what he had feared to see.

Smoke rising in the distance.

Hadi dug his heels into his horse's flanks, urging the steed to go faster as he clenched his teeth. His arse was going to be sore, but that was a concern for tomorrow, he thought. Provided that he lived that long. Rising up over the crest of a hill, Hadi saw Fajr and he saw it burning. Houses were set alight, the fire spreading uncontrollably. Worse still, Hadi saw that the ships were burning as well.

His heart sank to his stomach like a stone -- they were already too late. That was…

That was impossible. Hadi wanted to scream the words out, but it clearly wasn't. Five thousand men. Five thousand men. How could five thousand men and walls not be enough to last an hour?

Any trace of moisture in his mouth vanished at the sight, even as they rode on, spurred by the destruction. And it was only as they neared that they saw the culprits leaving the scene -- men that were hidden out of view rushed forward, carrying an extra horse behind them to meet the men fleeing the burning settlement. And Hadi despaired.

A hundred men. A hundred men had burnt the settlement to the ground.

And he understood why.

Hadi caught sight of a blood soaked man with red hair jumping onto a horse. Siegfried the Wolfkissed. The Pagan. His men gathered themselves up, saddling their horses, and started to flee. Hadi knew exactly who was to blame for their current circumstances. And, for a moment, Hadi was struck with indecision. Cold dread gripped his heart and his breathing hitched when Siegfried seemed to sense them.

He was younger than Hadi expected, and of all things, that's what he first noticed. He was an age closer to his brother than Hadi himself. You wouldn't think it seeing as he was a man grown in size, with blood red hair and bright blue eyes. Handsome, but he still had a boyish look with a thin red beard on his cheeks. His epitaph was well earned, Hadi saw, with a large bite wound on his neck.

Then Siegfried smiled a smile that froze Hadi’s blood in his veins. Before he had a chance to decide a thing, Siegfried made the choice for them all and wheeled his horsemen around, charging straight for them. His harburk was dyed red, as were the segmented plates on one of his arms. In one hand he carried a large axe that dripped freely of crimson blood.

I'm going to die. The thought was certain as Hadi found himself facing a charge from what he could only describe as a demigod. One who saw he was outnumbered five times over and decided that the odds were in his favor. It ran out in his head again and again and again, even as he numbly unsheathed his scimitar. The only hope, the only chance, was that the remainder in the city was too much of a threat for a long battle. That they would flee instead.

Yet, Siegfried didn't swerve his horse. And Hadi found himself charging straight towards him. He hefted his blade, and Siegfried hefted his axe…

I'm dead.

Instinct took over before Hadi even realized what he was doing, yanking back the reigns to his horse to jerk its head up just as Siegfried swung. To Hadi’s immense horror, he was showered in blood as Siegfried beheaded his horse with a single strike, and his horse crumpled forward, saving Hadi’s own head. His blade fell from his hand and through the layer of red that now covered his face…

The last thing he saw was the earth racing up to greet him.