Legends Never Die: What You're Looking For (ch. 44) (Patreon)

Before we could set sail, we did have a number of things to deal with. Most pressing among them were the various leaders within my army who were less than pleased that their positions were under threat. I had expected as much, and Thorkell prepared me for their anger and fear. However, it was an important step to turn my mercenary band into a proper army.

For that reason, we held a competition on the beach and took votes. Warriors and archers proved their skill -- a number of butts were set up, testing the aim of my archers while melees were set up to test the might of the fighters. The votes measured the popularity and trust that some of my warriors inspired, providing me with a short list of potential leaders. However, unknown to them, there was an additional quality that I was looking for, known only to me.

True Sight marking them.

As far as I could tell, in my experimentation with the sight of the gods -- red meant that someone was an enemy. Gray marked them as neutral, even if they happened to be on my side. Blue meant that they were an ally or friend -- that they were loyal. What gold meant proved to be elusive for the most part, but gold seemed to be what I was looking for. It marked them as important.

My family was gold until recently. Now they were blue, even Halfdan, who had been marked with gold since our reunion in Saxony. They were still important to me, but what changed was the fact that I had found them. We were together again.

Now, as I sat with little Arne in my lap, looking out at my warriors, I saw a number of them were marked with gold. Some of which had been blue prior, and others had been gray. What changed was what I was looking for -- leaders.

"Are you sure you have to go raiding? Looked like your ships were about to capsize when you sailed in," Solvieg questioned as she braided my hair -- a long, thick braid that went down the middle while smaller braids were woven into it. She was struggling to pull one of them out of Arne's hands, who was fascinated with my red hair. As if he didn't have any of his own.

Arne was big. Well, for a child of a year and some months. Despite the loss of his parents, he seemed joyous, and absolutely determined to cause mischief. He squirmed in my lap because he wanted to go down to the beach where the rest of the warriors were fighting.

"It's not about wealth. It is for the experience -- I have little experience leading men in pitched battle," I admitted. In ambushes? In a siege? I had plenty of practice, but with the battle lines drawn and two equal forces smashing into one another? I had fought in those battles, but I hadn't led them. Tactics was what I was lacking. What King Widukind did never would have occurred to me -- to obscure five thousand men in ten thousand. To use time and positioning. The way he used the enemy's perception and expectations against them was simply beyond me.

I was a great warrior. Not the greatest, but one of them. Now I needed to be a great leader. I needed to use what I learned in Francia.

"And conquering half of Norway is just a happy coincidence?" She wondered, finally managing to pry the lock of hair from Arne's grip, something that infuriated him based on how his expression pinched. To prevent any tears, I offered another lock of hair and Solvieg sighed, knowing that she'd have to fight for it too.

"Norway isn't any of my concern. If Jarl Hoffer wants it when I'm done, he can have it," I dismissed, seeing a warrior outlined in gold win another bout. He seemed well liked by a number of warriors, based on the amount of cheering. However, I didn't recognize him as one of the faces I memorized who were marked as blue before. Meaning that he had been gray.

It had been some time, yet I hadn't used the greatest reward that I had received from the war -- Grant Blessing. I was paralyzed with indecision, torn on what I should do with it. Part of me wanted to spend all of my prestige on my family. Making them greater and stronger, or whatever kind of blessing they would receive. If only to protect them while I wasn't here. However, if I were to use it on little Arne right now, what would be the result?

Would he be made stronger? Smarter? The blessing was determined by character, but he was a baby. What character could he have? Would he gain nothing from the blessing? Or would he discover he has an immense potential in something as he grew… but having talent didn't mean it would be realized.

Another part of me thought that I should only use it on those in my army. On the ones I would be taking with me into battle to improve their prowess. I had four thousand prestige, meaning that I could bless eight people. Would it be wiser to spend it all on someone I knew? That I trusted? Thorkell was the only one that came to mind.

There were too many choices and I was deathly afraid of making a mistake. However, I sensed that it was past time to make that decision. I saw as much when my eye caught Astrid. Or, rather, the warrior that was fighting amongst my men, but she wore a helm to hide her face and her hair was tucked underneath. I only noticed her because she was marked with gold.

She was a fine fighter. The rule was that you had to stop fighting if you lost three bouts, and thus far, she had only lost one despite fighting in a dozen. Those with many victories sought each other, all trying to prove that they were the greatest warrior -- she had done very well. Though, I had to question if she was marked in gold because she was my future wife or because she had the potential of a leader. There was simply so much to consider.

Astrid won another bout, the blade of her axe pressed against the throat of a man laying on the sand. After extracting another yield, she offered a hand and helped pull him up.

"I suppose mother will be pleased that we're marrying into the family of the king of Norway," Solvieg remarked, pulling the lock of hair from Arne's grasp and finishing the braid. "And speaking of marriage…" she trailed off when Astrid began to approach, ignoring a handful of fighters that offered challenges. I knew what was coming, so I passed Arne over to Solvieg. "Fighting already, and you're not even wed yet," she teased.

"Everyone in the army can be challenged?" Astrid said, lowering her voice to be mistaken for a man.

"Aye," I confirmed, offering a nod and picking up my axe. That got a smirk from her.

"Then consider yourself challenged, Wolf-Kissed," Astrid said, that cocky smirk falling off of her face when the warriors that overheard the challenge began to descend into uncontrolled laughter. Many threw back their heads, clutched their bellies, and doubled over from the force of the laughter. However, she didn't let that deter her, gripping the axe she wielded with white knuckles. Mother was right -- she was rather stubborn.

I glanced at Thorkell, who nodded before bringing everyone's attention back to the fights. "I accept your challenge," I told her, walking to one of the squares that were drawn in the sand. Standing across from my future wife, I realized that I was in for a great deal of teasing when Astrid took a swing at my head when the match started. I could practically hear it now.

Astrid was fast, I thought as I leaned out of the way of the strike, then sidestepped the second swing, then the back swing to that one. Mother said that she had spent a few years training to become a shieldmaiden, but that either undersold the time she spent learning or marked her as a fast learner. However, she wasn't as fast as Astolfo.

She was strong too, I discovered when I blocked a blow. She just wasn't as strong as Roland.

Her endurance was good -- sixteen bouts was exhausting, but her strength was starting to flag. She didn't have the staying power of Rinaldo.

Astrid was a fine warrior. An excellent shieldmaiden. Tales about her would be sung far and wide if she was given half the chance. But…

I stepped inside of her guard, the first offensive move I made since the fight began and she took a panicked swing at me with the rim of her shield. Ducking low, I hooked my axe around her ankle as she tried to take a step back, and pulled her legs out from underneath her. Astrid grunted when her back hit the sand, her helmet tumbling off, revealing her face that was twisted with a scowl. I could see the disappointment clear on her face. "You aren't weak, Astrid," I said, surprising her with my lack of surprise.

With the bout over, I glanced over at Thorkell, who was coaching the men or breaking up a fight that got too heated.

It was long past time to bestow a blessing, and I knew exactly who I should choose first.

…

"Are you sure?" Thorkell asked me after I pulled him aside, just before we set sail. Astrid hadn't been seen since her defeat, and Jarl Hoffer had professed his apologies that she was stubbornly refusing to see us off. Which is why I had the time to explain the offer to Thorkell -- I explained it was a blessing that King Charlemagne used to create the Paladins. That I had genuinely no idea what would happen if he accepted the blessing. He had listened in silence, and only when I was done did he ask the one question that I hadn't anticipated.

"... I'm sure," I confirmed after a moment of thought. Thorkell was my second in command. That had always been the case. I had relied on his wisdom, experience, and connections more than once. He was well respected by everyone in the army, especially those that had escaped with him back in Frankfurt. Above all else, I trusted him. I trusted him not just with my life, but the lives of my family.

"If you're sure, then I'm not going to refuse. But… Siegfried -- there are reasons why people are thinking that you're a god. At this point, it'd probably be easier to not argue that," Thorkell remarked, scratching at the scar over his eye. "I figured you were special early on, but something like this… it sounds divine. It's far beyond the favor of the gods."

I wasn't entirely sure I disagreed with him. "I don't know what I am, but I'm not a god. I can't be, when I am what I am because of their favor."

To that, Thorkell offered a small shrug. "You would know better than I would. So, how does this work?" He asked me and.. I… didn't really know. It hadn't come with instructions.

I really didn't want to look foolish now. I would die of embarrassment. So, I reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder and invoked the blessing. I felt something flowing out of me, almost as if it was blood. Thorkell's expression pinched for a moment, telling me that he felt it too. I kept an eye on my prestige, watching as five hundred drained away from it.

Granting bestowed:

Tactics: Of One Mind

During battle, the bearer will always know the intentions of the user. Likewise, the user will know the intentions of the bearer.

The description was a little vague, and it wasn’t what I expected, to be completely honest. It sounded useful, though. I had figured it would be a Prowess blessing of some kind, similar to the Paladins. Or, perhaps, it was the same -- I thought of Rinaldo and the wounds I delivered him. One should have killed him, but not only had he survived two, but he continued to fight with them. Was that resilience the result of a blessing?

"How do you feel?" I asked Thorkell to see him staring at his hands, clenching and unclenching them.

He paused, almost as if he didn't know how to answer. "Stronger?" He tried, sounding uncertain. "It feels… weird," he decided. "Are you sure it worked?"

I frowned and wondered if I should imbue another blessing, but I paused before I could begin. The cost had… doubled, I realized. The five hundred prestige had become a thousand for another blessing. A cost that I could pay, but instinct told me that I shouldn't. "It worked," I confirmed, withdrawing my hand. "I'm not sure if you're physically stronger like the Paladins are, but the blessing will help us coordinate in battle."

"Sounds useful," Thorkell remarked, rolling a shoulder and giving it a curious look. It was as if he was refamiliarizing himself with his body. Did the blessing bestow other benefits that hadn't been mentioned? With Arda, she had suddenly been able to pull that bow that even I couldn't. Astolfo said that there was a clear distinction between pre-blessing and post-blessing. "I suppose that we'll have a chance to try it out?" He still sounded distracted as he cracked his neck, his brow furrowing.

"Aye, we will. For now, though, let's keep it a secret. I don't know how the men would react," I instructed, and Thorkell nodded in agreement. I didn't want the men expecting a blessing in addition to increased pay.

Thorkell was still adjusting when we loaded up the ship and we said our brief farewells. It was hardly going to war -- it was hardly a few hours of sailing and I expected the battle to be quick. Mother hugged me farewell, as did my sisters. Haldur and Halfdan would be joining me, however. I was excited as we loaded up the ship and started to set sail, looking off to the mainland of Norway -- to the Jotunheim mountains. Where I suspected the first part of the riddle hinted at.

There was a great deal of fanfare as we set off, our sails unfurling to catch the strong wind at our backs and the current leading us to shore. An hour of sailing was cut down to a mere thirty minutes before we started to land on the shore, pulling the ships up and unloading the cargo that we would be taking with us. And it was then that we discovered why Astrid hadn't seen us off.

"Wolf-Kissed! Your wife is here!" One of my warriors called out with evident joy in his voice, causing me to look over as I coordinated with Jarl Hoffer. He brought fifty warriors whereas I brought all thousand of my men. Some would be left guarding the ships, but the rest would be raiding. For a moment, the words didn't register until Jarl Hoffer dragged a hand over his face.

"That girl!" He groaned as Astrid entered view, her expression best described as self-satisfied. I was rather used to seeing the expression on Morrigan, after all.

“She hid in a barrel, Wolf-Kissed,” the warrior informed me, and I could hear the smile in his voice. I’m glad someone found this funny because I certainly didn’t. I turned my gaze to Astrid, who thrust out her chin with defiance when our eyes met. A silent challenge in them. Jarl Hoffer strode forward, his expression one of thunderous wrath. To that, however, Astrid did seem a great deal more apologetic.

“It wasn’t a food barrel, was it?” I asked, earning a shake of the head from the warrior. That was good, at least. Food wouldn’t be as plentiful as it had been in Francia. I looked at our surroundings, finding sharp cliffs and dense forests. Unlike the hills of Francia, the hills were stony and rough with little patches of thin grass growing here or there. I knew most of the food we would find would come from the sea.

“Are you going to send me for a swim, then? I’m a warrior. Not a little girl that needs to hide behind her mother’s skirts,” Astrid challenged her father, meeting his gaze. And, for a moment, I thought that Jarl Hoffer might take a hand to her. He raised one up, but Astrid held his gaze until he gently placed it on the side of her head.

“This isn’t training, my girl. Soon you shall be more than just my daughter and a shieldmaiden. You’ll be a wife to one of the most important men in the land. Later, you will become a mother. Take greater care of your life,” He told her softly and Astrid seemed chastised. Far more than she would have if he did take a hand to her.

“I’m sorry, father. I just… wanted to prove myself,” Astrid offered as an explanation. Whatever Jarl Hoffer might have said in response, I paid no mind to it. We were betrothed, but until we were wed I had no true say over whether she should be sent back or not. That was her father’s decision. Instead, I focused on other matters while they sorted that out.

Halfdan stood next to me, throwing an arm over my shoulder, “I’ve been asking around. Jarl Hadwin can summon up an army of about two hundred warriors, and that’s scraping the bottom of the barrel,” he informed me and nearly made me miss a step. That…

“That’s it?” I questioned, surprised by how few a jarl could summon. Two hundred men. That was-

Halfdan shoved my head halfheartedly, “That’s a large army here, Sieg. This isn't Francia. Or Saxony, for that matter. This land doesn’t have a king. Half of the Jarls here would struggle to muster up more than fifty men,” he reminded me, making me consider that for a moment. If that were true, then we had vastly overprepared. “Horrik was an unusually powerful Jarl. It's why he was rivals with a king.”

I reached up to make sure that he hadn’t ruined the braid that Solvieg made while I frowned to myself. I hadn’t expected that. Halfdan was right -- I had expected to fight armies of thousands in this land.

“That might change how we go about raiding,” I decided, the camp and fortifications being made around our ships. Already, I could see a fierce competition in my men as they tried to prove themselves as leaders. The ones that were marked in gold stood out amongst the others, some already looking to them for guidance. I already had the idea of testing out the leadership by breaking my army up into smaller groups, but it seems it might be necessary to have anything less than an overwhelming advantage in numbers. "Thorkell and I will divide the army up in two halves -- five hundred men each."

Halfdan nodded, expecting that much. "Haldur hasn't said it, but he expects to have a command." He informed me in a low voice and to that, my lips thinned.

"Unless he intends to continue to fight in my army, he will be disappointed," I answered bluntly. Haldur was the head of the family. The fact that we were half brothers meant nothing to me. Halfdan was more of a brother to me than Haldur ever was.

"I figured as much," Halfdan admitted. "I thought you could use the heads up before he starts tossing demands around as the head of the family." With that, he patted me on the back before venturing over to Haldur, who stood with a number of men. Halfdan whispered my answer into his ear and Haldur immediately glanced over at me, his eyes narrowed into a glare. I paid him no mind as we went about organizing the army. It was a good hour before everything was done -- the fortifications made, the ships unloaded with the food that we would take.

Astrid ended up joining her father's hird, which was attached to my five hundred men. Seeing as I was around Jarl Hoffer most of the trek inland, we were around each other a great deal, but she made no effort to speak to me. Though, I didn't think it had anything to do with her loss. She just didn't want to remind everyone that she was here because she was my betrothed. She wanted to earn respect as a warrior, not as a woman.

I let her make the attempt. Jarl Hadwin lived at the base of the Jotunheim mountains, which I saw in the distance as we cleared the initial cliffs. They were a massive mountain range of snow capped peaks, and somewhere laid… something. The first part of the riddle. As we marched, I took note of the terrain -- Norway was a harsh land, I quickly realized. The ground was rough with stone and infertile, the hills steep and tall.

Perhaps, it was for that reason I found myself so disappointed when we arrived in the shadow of the Throat of the World. Jarl Hadwin's capital was a meager thing. More of a large village than a town, but completely reliant on the natural terrain to act as a defense. In some places, there was a rough palisade, of which I saw a handful of men guarding it. The gate was more of a fence.

It was a very far cry from what I saw in Francia. It was almost bitterly disappointing as I approached the settlement with Jarl Hoffer, who wore a smug expression as we neared.

"Hold! Hold there!" A man with dark gray hair greeted them from behind the fence, his expression grim as he locked eyes with Jarl Hoffer, who grew more pleased at the man's evident displeasure. "Jarl Hoffer. Who did you have to suck to acquire such an army?"

Jarl Hoffer was so happy to see a rival humiliated that he barely noticed the insult. "I made friends rather than enemies, Jarl Hadwin. Meet Siegfried Erikson. Though,you might better know him as Siegfried the Wolf-Kissed." To that, Jarl Hadwin's eyes widened dramatically and the handful of men that were with him shared a troubled look. I noticed that they were all greybeards. Their best days were long behind them.

"Wolf-Kissed. Your reputation precedes you," Jarl Hadwin nodded at me. "I had heard you lead a great army, but I will admit I never expected to find it at my doorstep." I counted twenty men. All of them old and feeble. The town itself… It was quiet. Too quiet. Either everyone was holding their breath within the village, or…

"Greetings, Jarl Hadwin. I see that you prepared a warm welcome for us," I remarked, making his expression tighten. "I don't disapprove. You'd be a fool to fight us with our numbers, and you don't strike me as a fool." I told him, knowing that the village was empty. I searched the mountainside with True Sight, spotting a hint of red. "I ask of you -- what orders did you give?"

Jarl Hadwin worked his jaw for a moment before definitely lifting his chin. "If you come in peace, then they shall descend the mountain. Should you not… then they will depart to my grandson's lands, and with their combined might, you shall know defeat." It sounded like bluster, I decided. I didn't even need Tell Spotter to know that he was lying. He didn't believe that much.

"Good," I nodded, which seemed to make him uneasy. "If you would agree to it, I will spare your life here," I told him, and Jarl Hoffer looked like he bit into something sour. "in exchange for you to travel Norway to it's many Jarls and give them this message -- I have no need for your riches or treasures. What I desire from them is battle. It is my recommendation that you join forces against me, for your defeat is certain if you do not."

Jarl Hadwin seemed poleaxed, "You're mad." He breathed the words, scarcely believing a word that I said.

"No. I merely need a whetstone for my army," I told him before blinking. "My apologies," I inclined my head to him, realizing how rude the words came across.

Jarl Hadwin licked his lips, seemingly considering the offer for but a moment. However, he shook his head, "I'm an old man, Wolf-Kissed. Old men don't bend so easily. I have protected this land since before you were but an itch in your father's balls, and I would be damned before I abandon it in my final hours," he declared before he yanked out the sword at his hip. I took no notice of it until now, but the moment I saw it, I could hardly take my eyes off of it.

The hilt was made out of steel and gold, the guard being two flat bars. The grip itself was big enough for a single hand, the pommel was shaped like a claw, only it was missing something. The blade itself drew my attention -- not because of the quality of it, but rather the clear reforging of it. The base of the blade was a dark gray, almost black kind of metal that I had never seen before, whereas the rest of the blade was steel.

Just as I spotted the blade, the sun dipped behind the Jotunheim mountains, casting a long shadow over us.

I found it.

"So be it."