Legends Never Die: Necessary Measures (ch. 62) (Patreon)

The situation was less than ideal, with Strategos Tatzates leaving Crete almost as soon as he’d arrived, taking his loot with him. He clearly anticipated a quick response over the contested island and wanted nothing to do with the battle to come, with my scout ships reporting that he was already sailing home. His motives were a simple thing to puzzle out in hindsight -- he wanted the credit for cleaning up the pirates, and for Strategos Michael Lachanodrakon to suffer from the ensuing raids from the Muslim ‘pirates’ because they weren't likely to sail all the way over to the other side of Anatolia for the sake of revenge.

In the end, my men and I were simply collateral damage in his scheme.

I was angry. So angry that more than once I considered sailing to the Muslims and offering my services to them instead. A breach in my contract and borderline betrayal, but the anger settled in my chest like a hot coal. In Francia, Widukind made no secret that he was using me and I respected him for it. Simply because I knew he respected me.

That is what was lacking here in Rome -- mutual respect. I might have even accepted this position happily if Tatzates had informed me of the plan beforehand. If he had stayed or left some men behind to help me secure a position. Something to show me that I was little more than a pawn in his game.

But he hadn't and I wasn't.

We had already fended off probing attacks from the Muslims, and spotted their scouts taking note of our position. My own scouts showed that they were preparing themselves for an attack rather than simply fleeing, all but confirming that they were no simple pirates. We let them build up their defenses since there would be no attack coming, simply because there was no point. Instead, we used the time to our advantage.

I had scouts sailing every inch of the coast, looking for good defensive terrain. When they came back with a half dozen options, I visited all of them before making my selection -- it was on the easternmost tip of the island. The shore was rough sand, leading up to hills that quickly became cliffs. The beach was protected by a natural harbor in the shape of a crescent, making it perfect for our needs. In a high tide, our ships could sail over the sandbanks while two towers and an iron chain could close off the narrow straight, like the Romans did in Constantinople.

The land however, was poor. Very poor. The soil was filled with rocks and sand, with even shrubbery struggling to find a place. It would make us entirely dependent on food imports and fishing, which was not something that I liked, but it was one of the few locations on Crete that was generally unassailable. The harbor was the only natural point of entry with the hilly terrain around us making a handful of paths that we could easily police.

It was almost perfect.

But, it had one fatal weakness that was likely the reason it hadn't been settled before us.

The cliff followed the crescent, meaning that the ground was slowly elevating until it reached a plateau. With the naturally hilly terrain, that didn't leave a great deal of space for a settlement to actually be built. Buildings needed flat terrain in ideal circumstances and, quite simply, it would be tiring constantly walking up or down an incline. If the situation was even a little different, I couldn’t see myself settling down here. It was perfect for it's defenses, but not much else.

But it was exactly what we needed.

“We'll be working day and night,” I informed my council, standing on the beach as the ships began unloading. “The thralls will be doing the bulk of the menial labor. There won't be any rest for them. We can't afford it,” I said, looking out at the terrain and trying to picture what we needed.

It was Alfic that spoke up, “You intend to work them to death?” He asked in Germanic, sounding unbothered by it. I considered what he was saying for a moment -- I had owned slaves before. Back on the farm, they worked with me and when the task was done, I granted them their freedom. When I was in Francia, I had used slaves to bury a hoard, then killed them to prevent them from spreading word of its location. If I had to choose which of the methods I preferred, it was the former by a vast margin.

However, this wasn't the time or the place for compassion.

“If they die, then they die,” I answered coldly. It was regrettable, but in the end, I was far more concerned with my ability to protect my people. They were my priority, not the thralls. There were nearly a thousand of them, and the cold, logical part of my mind told me that in this terrain -- with no forging, no farming -- they would be only a drain on my resources. I didn't expect things to become so dire that it became a siege, but I had to be prepared for anything. “We'll divide our forces. Half of us will stay here to prevent a rebellion. The other half will be divided further.”

It was Hoffer that spoke up, “Patrolling.” He ventured, earning a nod.

“I want the Muslims to think we are preparing to attack for as long as possible. A few days, at least. Patrol the shores and pick off whatever ships that you can. Bring the ships and the crews here -- we could use them both,” I admitted. Behind me, I knew that I would see the pirate ships being hauled to the shore. Some of them were already being broken down based on the sound of hammering and thunks of wood. Not all of the planks would be usable, but enough would be. “The other half will have two tasks. The pirate haven -- I want it scavenged.”

It was more wood for us to build with. It would be a task, but with near a thousand thralls, I foresaw that we could make quick work of it. The stone villa could also be broken down, brick by brick. It would make a good central fortress, however small it might be, but with the right terrain -- which they had -- they could hold out indefinitely. I had to plan that way. Simply because this place could be attacked when I wasn't here.

But, to transport it all, we couldn't just use their ships. It would take far too long.

“The rest will be accompanying Jill to deliver a message,” I said, taking out the letters that I had found. I passed them to Jill, who accepted them, her brow creasing after a moment.

“The lord of the island… has been… working with the pirates?” She ventured, speaking in accented Greek. She knew enough to be the messenger for this task. I was glad for it because, as much as I might want to be there, I knew I was of much better use here.

“He has,” I confirmed in Norse. “It's proof of his actions. They're borderline treason, if that means anything in this land. If nothing else, it would make him a number of enemies,” I told her, and I could see she knew exactly what to do with the information.

Athrun spoke up, “I have seen this Lord Mimir. He is… a testament to the fact that you do not have to be strong or clever to lead in this land. I do not see him putting up much resistance if pressured.” He offered, and he must have learned that during his scouting trip prior to our arrival. It was good information to have.

“Jill. I want you to break him,” I told her, gazing hard into her eyes. “These people will not treat us as equals, and I find myself sick of their games. Turn him into our puppet that will nod his head and give his sigil to everything that we tell him to. If Chares and their ilk won't help us, let us see if they will refuse a lord.” It was a tall order, I knew. And something that she had never done before. However, I was intending to stay on this island one way or another, and I would not be subjected to the whims of a fool.

Jill stood straighter and offered a nod, even as Hoffer visibly fought off a scowl with such an important task not being given to my lawful wife. “He will be our creature. I'll see to it,” she swore. That's exactly what I wanted to hear. I knew she could do it. And, to make sure she had some muscle, I would be sending some of my best with her in case this lord Mimir thought he could push the issue.

“We need every wagon and mule in Chania. And every available free hand. I don't expect much, but it would be something,” I decided and I saw nods all around.

Good. “Let's get to work.”

…

I should have anticipated it, in hindsight. Technically speaking, I had nearly doubled my fleet, gained near a thousand thralls, and planted roots for my settlement. All the same, I was still surprised when the gods decided that I had earned a gift from them.

District Planner

City planning can be a difficult task with many things only being revealed in hindsight. With District Planner, the user can visualize exactly where something should go to prevent messy complications, such as putting the blacksmith too close to housing.

However, information is determined by data user inputs.

Simulation

The user can visualize a number of scenarios that might befall his property -- a flood, an earthquake, a drought, and invading armies. This allows the user to see how his preparations for various disaster scenarios perform in real time without the risk.

District Planner seemed incredible at first glance. I had grown up on a farm, but my time in Frankfurt with the army there had shown me the annoyances of living in an enclosed space with a great many people. It was one thing to share a homestead with your family, it was another thing entirely to hear the arguments of a family three houses down. However, the more I thought about it, the more it seemed…. Useless wasn't the right word, but it felt like a perk for something I should be able to do myself.

Simulation, however, caught and held my attention in its entirety. Between the two, it was no competition which one was the better. With little hesitation, I chose it as I looked out into the harbor that was filled with bustling ships.

A day had passed and we were already making great progress. Ships were being broken down for the wood, and with the low tide, the two towers at the mouth of the harbor were being constructed. Makeshift housing was going up, and I silently told myself that it would be replaced with stone after we dealt with the current threat. Along the inner harbor were a number of piers that were being built as well, simply to make it easier to load and upload all of the ships that were coming and going. Just four, at the moment, and they were fairly short.

Above, at the edge of the cliff that overlooked the harbor was where the fort was being constructed. It was much slower going because the foundation was all stone, but a basic wall was being put up. The thralls were being pushed hard, but there was a lot less complaining than I anticipated. Either because my men and I worked alongside them, or because they were simply too tired.

It would be the perfect time to test the new gift from the gods, and I manifested it as a small window that had a number of options. Very similar to what I saw when I checked the fertility.

Natural Disasters:

Hurricane

Tornado

Earthquake

Flash flood

Extreme Weather:

Severe thunderstorm

Drought

Heat wave

Cold snap

Warfare:

Nordic

Germanic

Frankish

Roman

Pirate

Abbasid

It was a short list of things, but I couldn't tell what half of them were. I had never heard of a ‘tornado’ before, or a hurricane. Looking at each one, there was a level of severity that I could tick up. The warfare ones, however, had numbers that I could input, including specifying specific things such as the Roman Greek Fire ships. Out of curiosity, I chose to see what a tornado was.

Immediately, everything that was built up was layered with a green film. A second later, the skies darkened with a much darker shade of green before…

My stomach did flips inside of me as a massive spiral began to descend from the sky above, almost like it was a waterspout. The makeshift housing started to shift around based on how the green film moved, then the cyclone descended into the heart of the settlement… only for it to quickly fade afterwards. Frowning to myself, I thought that was… a little disappointing if I was being completely honest. I'm not entirely sure what it was exactly, but… I was expecting more damage.

Then I chose a flash flood. Severe intensity.

The displaced pieces of housing reset themselves before the sea began to retreat in an unnatural way. And, with little warning… it returned in a collosal wave that simply smashed through the towers, reducing them to nothing, then continued into the harbor. The ships and docks were smashed like toys struck by a hammer, the wave striking the cliff with thunderous force. In a handful of seconds, everything we built was gone, reduced to light green planks of wood.

Then everything was suddenly back in place and I forced myself to take a calming breath after what I could only describe as a vision from the gods. They were generous. Far more generous than I deserved.

Choosing the Abbasid ship option, I saw a hundred ships appear on the horizon beyond the harbor. They sailed forward impossibly fast, heading between the two towers before some made landfall on the sandbank. The men got out… and I saw the limitations of the simulation. It didn't factor in my men, who would be fighting against the attackers. It only tested my physical defenses against invaders. It was a little less useful than it might have otherwise been, but it was still an invaluable tool.

“I owe the gods a sacrifice,” I decided, looking out at the blue waters, the invading army vanishing like smoke in the wind. The water itself was some of the bluest I had ever seen, and among the clearest. It was a beautiful sight. We just had to protect it.

A sentiment that the gods agreed with whole-heartedly.

Quest: Settlement Defense.

Objective: Defend your home from an oncoming attack.

Bonus Objective 1: Settlement takes less than 15% damage during attack.

Bonus Objective 2: Defeat 50% of the enemy.

Bonus Objective 3: ???

Objective reward: 100 Prestige

Bonus Objective 1 Reward: 1 Stewardship Perk

Bonus Objective 2 Reward: 150 prestige

Bonus Objective 3 Reward: ???

This was the quest that I had received from the gods barely a minute after Tatzates had set sail, leaving us behind. And it was a large factor in my decision to not sell my services to the Muslims instead. The gods had decided that this plot of land was worth defending, and so I would defend it. More interestingly was the third Bonus Objective -- the gods were letting me know that there was one, but they were hiding it from me. As well as the reward I would receive for it.

Odin must have high expectations of me.

“Siegfried,” I heard Morrigan call out to me, catching my attention. I tore my gaze away from the ocean, glancing over my shoulder at her. “We have them gathered and we found a translator,” she informed, making my eyes narrow and my jaw clench. “They're in your tent… but I wouldn't hold out hope that they're anything more than pawns. T'is most unlikely that the Strategos would share his plans with mere fodder.” She said, trying to temper my expectations.

I had enough of passively waiting for my enemies to give me opportunities to destroy them. This game of politics was a far different battlefield than I was used to. I couldn't be idle. I couldn't just wait for others to accrue influence to be spent. If I wanted to punish those that had used me without even the most basic respect, then I would need to be active.

“I know. But they'll know something, and it'll be a start,” I answered, turning away to head to my tent at the top of the cliff. It wasn't a particularly long walk, but it was an inconvenient one. The main settlement would need to be at the base of the harbor, between the hills. I would have preferred to begin the questioning yesterday, but a number of the pirates only spoke Arabic or Persian. And the ones that could speak Greek didn't speak either. And I couldn't learn either language without a common tongue.

Pushing the tent flap aside, I saw my tent was in usual order, except for the half dozen men that were kneeling on the ground. Their hair was cut off, marking them as thralls, while standing over them were a half dozen of my warriors. Daring them to try something. The only one that stood out was a child -- long black hair, a tough tunic, and a soft face that made it difficult to tell if they were a boy or a girl. Regardless, their expression was anxious the moment I entered my tent.

“He can speak Greek, Persian, Arabic, and one other language,” Morrigan informed me, catching my attention. I was unusual for being able to speak so many languages. In large part, most people could get away with speaking only one. So, it was curious that a child that couldn't be older than seven or eight was able to speak four. And Morrigan anticipated my next question, “He was a thrall to that one there. T'is most likely that he was discovered and taken for knowing two languages.”

That made some sense, I decided, looking at the boy. He didn't seem to be harmed, just kept in poor clothing and in desperate need of a comb. “You can speak to them, yes?” I asked him in Greek, taking a seat on a stool, putting me at near eye level with the lot of them. The boy flinched at being spoken to, but said nothing. What he did do, however, was look at one of the pirates.

The very same pirate that had called out to Tatzates. The pirate was in his late teens to early twenties, rough hands of a sailor with dark skin that was darkened by the sun. He offered a small nod, seemingly understanding what this was even if he didn't speak Greek himself.

“I do… I’m… My name is… Alim, my lord,” Alim introduced himself, grabbing the hem of his tunic nervously as he looked everywhere but at my face. He was afraid. Of me. That cooled the hot coal of anger in my chest as if a cup of water had doused it, even if there were embers left.

“You have nothing to fear, Alim. I do not enslave children. I need you to translate the words of this discussion, and I will see to it that you are rewarded well,” I told him, my tone softening and while it was less than I would like, that did seem to put some of his worries to rest. “The one that you looked to -- what is his name?”

“Zafir Latif,” Alim answered, still nervous but less afraid. Zafir perked up, hearing his name mentioned as he narrowed his dark eyes at me.

“What did he say to Tatzates before he left?” I asked, leaning forward to hold his gaze. Alim hesitated a moment before he echoed my question to the man, and to my ear, he sounded rather fluent in it. Zafir paused before he replied and Alim glanced nervously at me.

“Zafir s-says that he will tell you nothing unless you free him and his crew,” Alim said and I nodded, having anticipated that much.

Dealing with a translator was a pain, I decided. I believed that Alim was telling the truth at least. However, it was difficult to get my point across when my words came from the mouth of a child. I suppose that I would need to convey them with action, then. “Morrigan,” I spoke up, looking to her, “Can you find where his crew is?”

“... T'would be a simple task,” Morrigan answered. “I shall have them gathered,” She said, gesturing for one of the men to follow her. He looked at me and only left when I gave him a nod.

“Alim. Please tell Zafir that I have no intention of negotiating with him. His freedom, and even that of his crew is on the table. But he will only be freed after he tells me what I want to know. This will be the only time I ask politely,” I told him in a calm voice. I hadn't meant to scare him, but I could practically see his heart jumping into his throat as he relayed the words.

Alim wasn't required for the response. He spat at me and it landed on my boot. One of my men back handed him hard enough to draw blood but I waved him off when he went to deal a second blow.

“I'll ask again in a week. Gather him and his crew up and tie them to poles. On the beach. It would be a good way to remind the thralls to not rebel,” I reasoned. The heat wouldn't be terrible on account that it was technically winter, even if it still felt like a warm fall day. However, a week of no food, unable to move, and with the unrelenting sun overhead? I imagined a few tunes would change by then. One of my men nodded, and Zafir immediately began to struggle. I didn't need Alim to translate for me what was said as he was dragged out.

The remaining men looked at me, their expressions tense. These men were the ones that Morrigan was able to connect to Tatzates in some way. As she described it to me, they were connected by a thread of lilac, which apparently meant subterfuge. I had a rough guess what might be going on -- that they were sponsored pirates to pillage Michael's holdings to make him seem weak. But, I needed specifics. Not to mention, it would be useful to have evidence if I ever levied an accusation. It would need to be overwhelming if I would be believed, though.

“Alim?” I prompted the boy, who watched Zafir be dragged out with a paling face.

“Y-yes?” He asked me, swallowing a lump in his throat.

“Please repeat the question to that one,” I said, inclining my head to the next pirate in line. Alim did and he wasn't that much more talkative than Zafir and, as he too was dragged out… I knew this would take some time. I did. It could be weeks, months, or even years in the making.

But it was time for these Romans to learn to fear my bite.