Legends Never Die: The Cost of Secrets (ch. 69) (Patreon)

I had never seen so many people gathered in a single place. It wasn't the first time I had that thought. It wasn't the second or the third either. The very first time I thought it, I had been a boy fresh off the family farm and Alabu had struck me as the largest city in the world. Then, when we rebelled against Francia, when our armies marched together. And again, in the final battle where there had been tens of thousands of men on the same field.

Yet again, I had that thought as I gazed out at the U shaped Hippodrome, seated in an elevated position to overlook the games that took place below. The seats were marked in rows, dozens of them, and they were packed with so many people that I couldn't believe that the building didn't collapse underneath their weight. There were tens of thousands of people -- easily more than the twenty thousand that had fought in the final battle in Francia. Double that, even. There had to be at least fifty thousand people in the stands as they cheered loudly for what seemed to be some kind of race.

There were more people in this single building than people I had met in my life.

And I was envious. So envious that I could practically taste it upon my tongue like ash. The race almost went unnoticed by me as the announcer belted out a cry to the roaring crowd, whose fervor shook the air until it trembled, a war cry equal to any army. A dozen horses were lined up while men stood on odd wagons behind them, dressed in bright clothing as they waved to the crowd. I had caught a glimpse of it before on my tour of the city, but it hadn't been full like this.

“I want this,” I admitted underneath my breath in Norse. I stood at the balcony to the imperial box, the Emperor and his Guard behind me as they too watched the race as it began. Morrigan stood at my side, placing a hand upon mine when she heard me.

I couldn't even imagine how long it had taken to construct this building. A century? Longer? What had it cost in materials? How had they found thousands upon thousands upon thousands of pounds of stone to build it with? How long had it stood here for?

How did one justify something like this to their people? I stood in awe of it, but would the people not look at the stone and think that a city could have been built with it? That the funds could have gone to projects that were more useful?

No… no, I wasn't thinking like a ruler. A ruler ordered its construction without a thought of what the money, labor, or materials could have gone to. It was a testament to their own greatness. A lasting reminder to the world that they were here, and this building was part of the greatness that was their legacy.

“How long do you think it would take for our people to build something like this?” I asked Morrigan, watching the race. it was a violent race with the wagons of opposing teams clashing against one another, trying to force the other to crash. The crowds cheers increased with every near thing.

“It would depend on how well you bribe the dwarves,” Morrigan replied. “A decade? A few? You would have a greater idea than me.”

True. Annoyingly. I thought on the mission that I received from the gods in regards to Nordland -- five notable buildings. My longhouse counted as one, but it… it was a poor and feeble thing in comparison to this. Would the gods truly be satisfied with such a meager offering? Would they not want a Hippodrome? A temple equal to the Hagia Sophia? The Imperial Palace? I knew that it was impossible to build all of that within five years. Not to mention, there were far more practical things I could be building during a war.

I just couldn't help myself. I wanted it. I coveted it. Longed for it.

“A runestone,” I muttered. I never erected one myself, though I knew at least one had been erected for me in Norway. Normally, a particularly large rock would be painted and engraved with deeds worthy of a saga, but I would do more. The Parthenon. A great temple for the Roman gods that they had forgotten. Though, I foresaw issues if I built a temple dedicated to my gods in Rome. They probably wouldn't even bother to wait for me to leave before they repurposed it for the Christian God.

Could I disguise it as something else? That could be risky. Very risky…

But I had to do something. If only to prove that I could build something equal to the Romans.

My attention was dragged back to the race when one of the near misses finally struck. A wagon was driven into a wall, and with the force of the impact, the wagon was reduced to splinters. The man on it flew through the air, landing in a heap on the sand ground before he was almost immediately trampled by the teams of horses that came after. The crowd cheered and cried out in dismay with equal fervor, but none cheered louder than the Emperor himself.

I heard the jingling of his reignments as he jumped off of his throne to rush to the balcony, close enough to touch. It was the first time I saw him not looking bored out of his mind as he cheered for the blues, pumping a fist in the air as he hollered taunts down at the greens. They were lost in a sea of noise, but people cheered louder when they saw their Emperor cheering with them.

“He's just a boy,” I remarked to Morrigan as we were all but shoved to the side while his guards stood vigil. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Irene seemed less than pleased but was swallowing it down.

“A boy that wears a crown. But you won't be dealing with him. You'll be dealing with her,” Morrigan noted as Irene got up from the lounging chair and approached her son from behind. She rested her hands on his shoulders, and I noticed an immediate curb of Emperor Constantine's enthusiasm. He went still, quite down, but still eagerly watched the Chariot races down below.

“Come the spring, Lord Siegfried, there shall be war with the Abbasids,” Irene stated, speaking in Greek. She spoke as if she were imparting some great knowledge upon me, but it was rather obvious to anyone that had eyes in their head. “The Caliph al-Mahdi has amassed an army of some sixty thousand according to our spies. He intends no mere raid. He intends to conquer Anatolia.”

That was news to me. The fleet was still circling the Mediterranean sea, and they still possessed a presence on Crete. An army of sixty thousand… I looked out to the Hippodrome, trying to imagine them all as Abbasid warriors. That was… a rather large army.

With how Irene spoke, she clearly wanted me to pick up the thread but I'm not entirely sure where she wanted me to go with it. “Crete will be their staging ground,” I ventured and she looked at me curiously. “Forgive my bluntness, your majesty, but they all but had the door opened for them during the raids. If it were me, I would see little reason to think that I couldn't walk through that door again.”

“...oh?” She uttered, watching me carefully.

“I would commit to a two pronged invasion -- an inland one and one by sea. It would force you to divide your soldiers unless you leave one army completely unchecked. The ground invasion would come first, I think, to measure the reaction while the threat of an invasion by sea would force you on the defensive. They could land in Greece, Anatolia, or strike at Constantinople itself. Those possibilities would prevent you from bringing your full might to bear.” It's what I would do. More than that, the commander that had quit the field…

He was clever.

“How refreshing,” Irene remarked lightly, and I'm not exactly sure what I just did to earn her approval. She seemed to sense that and offered me a thin smile. “I had heard of your people's practices to allow your women folk to fight. I wasn't aware it extended to matters of war.”

I stilled for a moment, not entirely sure what that meant. No, I knew exactly what it meant but I couldn't bring myself to believe it. “Have you… not been briefed of their plans, your highness?” I asked, unable to stop myself, regardless of how rude it might appear.

“I am informed of the threat that we face, but the Strategos see little reason to inform me of our plans,” she answered.

“But you’re…” I began to argue before forcing myself to swallow my words. I'm sure she was underplaying her influence. I couldn't imagine one of the Strategos ignoring a direct order for troop placements or summoning. But, it was still mad to me that you would deliberately keep the Regent from being informed on such matters. Worse, I couldn't give them the benefit of the doubt that they were doing it because she wasn't a warrior. They did it because she was a woman.

“Indeed. How confident are you in this theory?” Irene questioned me, and she seemed to already be planning on how to put me to work.

“It's what I would do. The only thing that would change that would be if you outnumber them. Do we?” I asked her outright, cautiously exploring the new ground of our relationship. I wanted to see how she viewed me -- as a tool? Or an ally?

“No. We do not,” she answered simply, her tone flat. “Tales have reached us of your exploits in Francia. As well as your deeds in Greece. You will be placed under the command of Strategos Tatzates during the coming war as Strategos Michael has disgraced himself.” she informed me, and none of that was any particular surprise to me. In truth, Strategos Michael was only still alive because of his past deeds and Tatzates was currently smelling of roses and glory.

I was curious where she was going with this. “You strike me as a man that prefers bluntness, so I shall be blunt with you Lord Seigfried -- Could you deny the Abbasids a launching point in Crete?” She questioned, and now I saw how she was trying to use me.

It was a different game than it had been with King Widukid. More insidious in nature. King Widukid used me as a symbol. A rallying point. The tip of his spear. Irene hoped to use me as a dagger up her sleeve.

“It would depend if they launched the bulk of the invasion from Crete. I'm confident in my prowess, but in a battle of forty thousand against five -- we will be drowned and crushed in numbers,” I admitted easily. The extra two thousand men would help a great deal, but they needed to be trained in our ways. Our tactics. They would need to be armored as well.

Irene cast me a look I found difficult to describe, “And twenty thousand?” She asked lightly?

“Doable. Dangerous, but doable,” I stated. Perhaps it was arrogance, but I felt the words were true. It would need the right battlefield. A place where the Abbasids couldn't bring their full weight down upon us at once. “It would be easier to harass their ships on the way to Crete. Perhaps contest their landing -- bleed them before we give battle in a place of our choosing. They’ll have to deal with us, otherwise we’ll have free regin to harass their rear. Or counter invade their nation. My scouts have found a number of rich looking cities on the coast.”

Irene smiled at me. It was not a kind one. It was one that reminded me of a cat that finally got done playing with her food and was going to swallow it whole in a single bite. “That is a balm to my concerns, Lord Siegfried,” she told me.

I could tell that she wasn't fully ready to believe it just yet, but her intentions were clear to me. She wanted me to be a check on Tatzates, I believe. Five against twenty thousand was a heroic victory by any measure. My star shining brightly would make Tatzates’ seem more dim, regardless of how well he performed in the war. What's more, since I had no vested interest in the Empire itself, I was a safe tool to use. I wasn't under any illusions that she was somehow attached to me, and that her favor would vanish the moment that I proved to be more trouble than I was worth…

Still, I could work with this.

“I am glad to be of service, your highness,” I replied evenly. I was tempted to ask for additional aid -- in the end, it was four times our number we would be dealing with. Perhaps more. Another five thousand troops would make things far more even, but that came with risks. I didn't have a high opinion of the Romans, if I was being perfectly honest -- the common folk, the warriors that would be fighting, they were men like any others. But their leaders? The ones that would be commanding them?

I didn't trust them. I'd have to be a fool to. It was better to fight alone than to fight beside an untrustworthy ally.

“If I may make one request -- the fireships that you possess. I will not ask for their secrets, but one of them could do a great deal of damage to the Abbasids when it comes to bleeding their landing,” I approached the subject. I knew better than to ask for one or for its secrets, but I wanted to know. It was a powerful weapon and the Romans had shown the rare wisdom of keeping it close to their chests.

Irene's gaze narrowed ever so slightly. “How is it you know of Greek Fire?” She asked, her voice clipped.

“I… the dispersal of the pirates on Crete. Strategos Tatzates used two ships and I saw them then,” I answered, and she kept her expression blank but I got the impression that I had just told on Tatzates. Did he not have permission to use them?

Irene inclined her head to me. “I see. Of course, forgive my suspicions.” And that wasn't a request either. She was covering up her ignorance but I saw how it rankled her. And I was getting a much clearer view of the politics at this level of the Roman Empire. My gaze flickered down to the Emperor, who excitedly watched the games.

A boy who had no interest in ruling and an Empress that was being deliberately kept in the dark.

It was little wonder she latched onto whatever advantage I could provide.

And perhaps the politics were getting to me, because I only saw the advantages that brought.

…

The scrolls had described elephant's to me when I read of them. How Hannibal had carried them through the mountains and how the Romans looked upon the beasts, calling them monsters. And they were right to, I decided, seeing a gray skinned animal that stood twice the height of a man, with large white tusks, and a long trunk with floppy ears. I tried to imagine the damage they would do in a charge. They wouldn’t be as fast, but the weight of the charge would be the same. And I would fear these creatures more than I would a common horse.

The festivities had continued over the course of several days. There were more games and races, but what I found myself drawn to the most were the animal shows. Exotic animals such as elephant's, rhinos, monkeys, and one creature with an inordinately long neck called a giraffe. They looked like they came from another realm, and I wasn't entirely certain that they didn't.

A few days passed and people reacted to my receiving the favor of the Empress. Michalis pounced on the opportunity much like a cat with a particularly juicy looking mouse -- he entered talks with wealthy merchants, making promises and deals. Bit by bit, he was undermining Chares’ influence, and in the unseen battle, the tide was turning from him. It was different than killing a man with a blade, but it was no less deadly and it simply presented itself in a different way.

Such as being in a private balcony to watch one of the plays that Rome offered with one of Chares’ biggest supporters.

“My concern is the war. There is little point for me to move my distribution and trade routes to Nordland if this coming spring it is under Abbasid control,” a wealthy merchant told me- or, rather, Michalis in Latin. “You have confidence that this pagan will win, but I don't have such reassurances.”

“I understand your hesitation, but perhaps I can arrange for such reassurances? Insurance that your cargo will be paid for, even should the Abbasids pirate it?” Michalis floated while I leaned on the balcony, watching the play. It was… different. Different enough that I wasn't sure if I liked it or not. “As for the lord of Nordland… He has yet to lose a battle. In Francia, he fought outnumbered three times over. In the battle of Nordland, he faced off against ten times his number and chased the Abbasids off! I dare say that the only place safer in the incoming war shall be Constantinople itself.”

Michalis was chipping away at Chares’ allies. His grip on the merchant alliance. The fair weather allies had already switched over, while the stauncher allies were waiting for bribes. It seemed like friendship was one of the many things you could buy in Rome. Chares wasn’t idle, I knew -- he was fighting and clawing to maintain his influence, and he was starting to fight dirty. One of Michalis’ merchants had been found dead. It was always possible that he had been murdered in a trade dispute…

But he had been found with his head cut off and placed against his ass. Hard to mistake that as anything other than what it was -- a provocation.

With this kind of battle, it was next to impossible to tell if we were winning or losing. But time was drawing short, and my patience for this game was rapidly running out.

Which made it almost a welcome surprise when Trajectory Prediction marked me as I stood on the balcony, the culprit hidden in the shadows across from me with a crossbow in hand. Whoever he was, he was a good shot -- the trajectory was right over my heart. It wasn’t an inconsiderable distance either as even the theaters of Rome were larger than life.

The act ended, the applause of the citizens of Rome thundering out. It was the cover that the assassin had been looking for and they pulled the trigger to the crossbow, the bolt leaping forward towards me at high speeds. And, with an almost lazy swipe of my hand, I snatched it out of the air, the action catching the attention of Michalis, whose eyes widened.

Huh.

Was this not the false assassination attempt we discussed?

My gaze flickered to the shadows and I waved the bolt tauntingly, watching the figure vanish within them before I turned to the two men and tossed the bolt to Michalis. “Blame that on Chares,” I told him in Norse.

It was time that we settled this.