gamer

It was strange to think, but under different circumstances, I believe Caliph Harun Al-Rashid and I could have been friends. If I had been a Muslim, or he a Norseman, I suspected that we would have gotten along quite well. Our interests overlapped more than I expected. He had been a shy conversationalist until we reached a topic that he was invested in.

I didn't know how to feel about it, in all honesty. I didn't really have any friends, at least none my age. Thorkel was a friend and a trusted companion, but he was also old enough to be my father if he'd had me a few years earlier in life. My Chosen… I trusted them of course -- I wouldn't have granted them my blessing if I hadn't. However, I wouldn't call us friends. I was their commander, their lord, and one day their King. There was a gulf between us that was not so easily closed.

The gulf between myself and Caliph Harun should have been greater, and yet…

"Darius the Third is too diminished by the exploits of Alexander the Great. He was King of Kings, risen up from obscurity with his bravery and talent for war proven several times over." Harun stated, sitting across from me with his legs crossed as he held out a glass to be filled with a sweet juice.

"He fled. Repeatedly," I replied, cocking an eyebrow at the point. "Tactically, each retreat was sound -- that I will admit. The tide of the war was turning, and there is no shame in conserving your strength when you are on the defensive. However, I will argue that the moment Darias the Third fled from Alexander the Great at the Battle of Issus was the moment he lost the war."

Harun nodded, "You shall find no argument from me on that point. What made Alexander the Great… well, the Great, was his ability to see an opportunity. Outnumbered, yet he still outflanked Darius. A narrow gap in his line that Alexander charged head first into -- a foolish thing. I would have suspected a trap. Yet, there wasn't."

"He should have fought," I voiced with a shake of my head. "Even if it meant his defeat. Alexander's gambit relied on momentum more than anything else. Had Darius remained, even if he had perished, his army would have been able to recover by virtue of numbers alone."

"Hm. He should have. Yet, he didn't, which is why Alexander the Great became a legend," Harun agreed with a nod of his head. "And why Darius is only remembered for his defeat. Unjustly. The Battle of Issus broke his confidence and his support. But, in another time, I suspect that the Persians would have conquered Greece. Alexander was brilliant on the offensive, but I would say his defensive tactics were quite mediocre. He was no Leonidas, and the Macedonians were no Spartans."

It was simply fun to talk to Harun. I was becoming increasingly convinced that I had read every text pertaining to Alexander the Great in the world, but there were few that I could speak of the man with. Astrid enjoyed reading of his tactics and exploits, but entertaining the thought of a possible defeat on an otherwise spotless record wasn't something she enjoyed.

It was vexing. Almost enough to make me wonder if I shouldn't have gone straight for the Abbasids when I first arrived instead of the Romans. Logically, I knew that I would have likely received the same welcome as I did in Constantinople, but I think I would have enjoyed working with Harun far more than I have Irene.

And had I joined their campaign, I likely could have looted the imperial library and university.

"A failing I share, I suspect," I admitted. "I have no love for defensive battles. It is the offense that controls the momentum." The only true defensive battle I had fought in was when I was trapped in Frankfurt, and it had been… less than ideal.

"Yes, I have noticed your preference for the offensive," Harun remarked dryly. "As well as your love for ships."

I offered an unrepentant shrug, "If it's any consolation, I'm fairly certain that Hadi's wife has had me pay back all of the loot I took."

That got a grunt from Hadi and a ghost of a smile from Harun. "That does console me, yes." Then that smile slipped, "We were unprepared for you. The Romans, in truth, are exactly what my father called them -- a dying old man. It is you that gave them a breath of new life. However, I don't believe you shall find a surprised foe in Abd al-Rahman."

Abd al-Rahman was an interesting man. I always studied my enemies, and since Charlemagne delivered his ultimatum, I had learned what I could. He was a prince of the Umayyad Caliphate, exiled upon the rebellion that saw Harun's dynasty rise to prominence. He was clever, possessing the same quality that Alexander the Great had in his ability to spot any opportunity that could shift disastrous odds into his favor.

Through his mixed blood, he allied the Berbers in the area that had long resisted the rule of the Caliphate. He carefully navigated ancient feuds to make his cause the common cause between old enemies. His tactics weren't brilliant by any means, but he overcame long odds by acting decisively during the battle that had won him his Caliphate.

"He is an old enemy of my family by this point," Harun continued. "One that has never forgiven us for the indignities and tragedies he suffered when he was forced into hiding. The death of his friends, his wife, and child… my family hounded him endlessly. Nowhere was safe for him in the Caliphate. And he has never forgotten for a moment that we are the ones that made him suffer so."

I expected not. I wasn't any more inclined to forget about Horrik. "He revealed himself quite some time ago. Why was nothing done?"

"Something was. Iberia- the whole of Hispania, is far," Harun admitted. "The lands beyond Egypt pay homage to us, but much of the Abbasid's strength is concentrated around the Arabian Peninsula. It is quite costly to move an army to the far outreaches of the Caliphate, which is why there was exactly one attempt to oust him not long after his ascension."

There was a grimace on his face, "However, the army was soundly defeated. The officers slain and the soldiers butchered. Their heads were sent to my grandfather on his pilgrimage to Mecca, and the sight struck such fear into him that he thanked Allah that there was a sea between us and them." Harun trailed off with a sigh. "It was decided then that noninterference was the safer option."

"Until now," I continued for him and his heavy gaze met mine.

"Until now, yes," he agreed, his voice grave. "Which is why you must convince me that you are Alexander the Great, and that Abd al-Rahman is Darius the Third. What you suggest is no small risk for me, nor my Caliphate. Even should we win, I expect that Hispania will find no peace for the length of my rule." He continued, his gaze hardening ever so slightly. "This is a venture with many risks, more so for myself than for you."

I understood that quite well. My own actions had weakened his dynasty's standing. Another failed invasion, so soon after the first? His vassals would sense weakness.

"It was impossible for him to miss the building military presence on his northern and southern borders. He has taken precautions -- fortifying cities and mountain passes in the north, while concentrating his fleets in the south. He knows that he cannot withstand the full might of your empires, so what he intends to do is hold off one of you until he defeats the other. That way he is fighting one enemy after another rather than two at once."

In the end, for all of his political brilliance and decisive action on the field of battle, Abd al-Rahman was like Odysseus trying to pass between a monster and a whirlpool. He only had so many options available to him with the resources that he had. To that end, he'd chosen to focus on the North -- the mountain passages were an ideal location to ambush a larger army, and that was his one hope of defeating the Franks with enough strength left over that he could then focus on the Abbadids.

His fleets, on the other hand, were a way for him to project strength to the Abbasids. All together, they consisted of more than a thousand ships, even if the majority were fishing vessels filled with armed fishermen. But even so, such a force would be daunting to attack, especially as Abd al-Rahman would know that the invasion by the Abbasids carried far more risk for Harun than the Frankish invasion did Charlemagne. He was counting on Harun's hesitation, that he would wait for more ideal circumstances before he moved, to buy him the time that he needed.

"However, my ships are faster than his," I continued. "I can easily bypass his fleet and you have experienced first hand how adept I am at sieges. I intend to sack his cities along the coast one by one, forcing a reaction by the southern fleet. If the commander there is clever, he will do as you did and anticipate my next landing and move to intercept. The issue there is that he will have to leave behind his slower ships -- leaving them isolated for me to attack."

Harun seemed… perplexed as he listened to me speak, "And if he is not clever?"

"Then he will divide his fleet in an attempt to garrison all of the remaining coastal cities to protect them from me. That would be ideal -- it would give me opportunity to attack the bulk of his forces, then clean up the remainder." And to further sweeten matters, it would allow me to claim enough ships to complete one of the bonus objectives for one of my quests. I needed a thousand ships, and I couldn't build them so easily. Claiming them was better and this was a great opportunity to do so.

"From there, I will continue north along the coast," I continued. "Abd al-Rahman will be forced into action then -- his southern border would be exposed, and with me at his flank… his defense of the north will splinter, and Charlemagne will seize upon that to launch his own invasion. Ideally, I would avoid actually dealing with the man, but should I be unlucky, I would be expected to aid him in battle against the Umayyads. After that, my part of the war shall be done."

The loot that I had taken would be sent to the Balearic Islands to be transferred over to Norland. As would the ships that I took. Both would be used to construct an outpost there to maintain a presence, as well as fortify my position on the other islands. Construction projects, hiring mercenaries -- all of it setting the foundation for my departure and what I would leave behind.

There was a small lapse in our conversation as Harun mulled over the plan for a moment. Evidently, it met his standards and he offered a small jerk of a nod. "I am amenable to granting you the Balearic Islands. It is better that you have them than Charlemagne, I suspect," Harun stated before his gaze flickered over to Jasmine. His expression tightened ever so slightly. "This alliance that you proposed… it has merit."

The islands would be spread out, divided by sea, but that was as much of a strength as it was a weakness. Hoffer, if he ruled well, would be able to dominate the Mediterranean. More so if he continued to build up his strength and chose who would govern each island in his name wisely. Even if the Romans or Franks managed to lay claim to an island, an unlikely event as it would be difficult to miss the numbers of ships that would be necessary in such an invasion, Hoffer would be able to take it back as neither empire had the reach necessary to conquer all of the islands at once.

"There is, however, one issue. The marriage itself," he uttered, holding my gaze. Jasmine stiffened, and I favored her with a glance.

I didn't love her, nor did she love me. Perhaps, one day, that could change. I hoped it did, just as it did for me and Astrid. I was fond of Jasmine. I found that I was coming to respect her talent for financial matters, and it was nice to speak of the histories of the world with her. But…

This match was one of politics. To secure an alliance that would benefit both of our peoples.

"It is against your customs to marry a woman to someone who is not of your faith," I nodded, having anticipated this discussion. However, the fact that it was happening at all meant that everyone here was either willing to ignore the issue or had a way around it, else these talks would be rather pointless.

"The easiest way would be for you to convert, but I don't find that particularly likely," Harun nodded.

"I couldn't even if I wished to. Too much of my support is tied to the belief that I am chosen by my gods, or descended from them. To renounce them would destroy everything that I have built," I replied. The very thought was unthinkable to me in the first place. I'd much sooner part with my head than my faith.

To that, Harun nodded, accepting that for the truth that it was. "I understand. What would be your suggestion, then?"

"That we would be wed by both your traditions and mine -- we will be man and wife in the eyes of Allah, and in the eyes of my gods," I said, glancing once more at Jasmine. She was rather quiet. Everything had already been discussed beforehand, so I knew that she was amenable to the idea. If she wasn't, then I wouldn't marry her in the first place, alliance or not.

She sat still, her expression impassive as she watched the conversation transpire. Her fate was being decided between the two of us on top of a monument of the ancient world. I couldn't tell if that was a good thing or not.

"That… would be the next best thing," Harun acknowledged. "But that would complicate your succession, would it not? In the eyes of my people, your marriage to my sister would be your valid marriage."

I nodded, "I would assume so, but the opinions of your people do not concern me." I admitted rather bluntly, and that got a twitch from Jasmine's lips. "Our realms are far divided, and any meddling your people could hope to have in my succession would be limited. I doubt that we shall ever share a true border with one another, unless you intend to conquer the Franks. As such, the entire point is moot as, in my people's eyes, all my marriages are valid and all my children true born."

Then I frowned, "As for the succession itself… my children with Jill and Morrigan are as deserving as my child with Astrid. So too would any children between Jasmine and I."

"That," Hadi spoke up, having simply watched the talks happen to this point, "Could be a dangerous road to tread."

He wasn't wrong. It was my own bias that was guiding me there. I was the youngest of my father's children, and half of my siblings were born of Ada, a concubine. By law, I came ahead of them in inheritance, but growing up… there had never been a divide between my siblings over who their mother was. Haldur, in particular, had soured me on the entire thing by usurping Halfdan's place as the head of the family, as he was the eldest.

But I also knew myself. I loved all of my children -- those that I had now, and those that I would sire in the future. I could not bring myself to deem any one of them lesser because of who their mother was.

"I am aware," I nodded. "But the one who shall succeed me as king will go to whichever of my children is most deserving. One who desires the crown and has the aptitude to keep it and rule well. It matters not if they are born of Astrid, Jill, Morrigan, or Jasmine. I care not if they are the oldest or youngest. My heir shall be who I believe deserves to be my heir."

I had no plans of dying any time soon, but what would happen after I did was a question I had put considerable thought into, largely because of my Legacy boons. My Dynasty would accrue more Legacy points the more thrones my descendants sat on. However, there truly was no perfect succession.

Dividing up conquered territories so that all of my children received a kingdom? Charlemagne proved what could happen there -- kinslaying to reunite the greater kingdom. The eldest inherits everything? The eldest could be unfit and unworthy, or worse, he is targeted so a younger son could inherit instead. Choosing the greatest of my children, or grandchildren potentially, felt like it was the best method.

Yet even then, I need look no further than Rome to see how that could end. Love made fools of kings, and an unworthy heir could be favored over one that was deserving. To that end, I knew I needed safeguards, but I had yet to decide what they would be. Largely because the oldest of my children was only two years old.

Harun appeared thoughtful for a long moment, looking down at his glass before stealing a glance at Jasmine. I suspected that her thoughts were as unreadable to him as they were to me, because he looked away. There were a lot of things that he'd like to say, I knew. I had questions of my own. "The dual marriage is agreeable -- in the eyes of Allah, you will be married, and that matters to me more than the politics of the arrangement. As for the politics… there is much anger among my people, as they believe their princess has been…"

He didn't finish, but his gaze grew sharp. "Politically, it can be spun as you… making an honest woman out of her." There was anger in his voice, which was contrasted by Jasmine letting out a near silent, yet amused, huff of her breath.

I understood the reasoning well enough. Fornication was frowned upon, but marriage always lessened the impact, even retroactively. "And the marriage itself?"

"It shall be a secret for the remainder of your time in the Mediterranean. It would complicate things significantly for us both if Irene learned that you are wed, and that we are allies." Harun said with a small nod. I accepted that, as it was what I was hoping for. "There will be a second, public ceremony before your departure."

"That is acceptable to me," I said, offering a nod. There were still particulars to hammer out -- the bride price and the dowry in particular, but the agreement was made. "Is there a time you would wish the first ceremony to take place?"

To that, Harun offered a cutting smile, "After the invasion of Hispania."

I couldn't quite swallow my laugh at that -- he was ensuring that I was committed to the course in exchange for him upholding his word. "Clever. That is acceptable to me as well."

"Then let us make a toast -- to unlikely friends," Harun said, holding his cup of juice up.

"To common enemies," I agreed, meeting the toast.

And like that, the fate of the Mediterranean was irrevocably changed.

...The alliance was struck, and it truly was a colossal weight off of my shoulders, I thought to myself as my ship sailed back into Norland's harbor. My departure and arrival were disguised as my visiting one of the outposts on Sicily, ensuring that my meeting with the Caliph would be known by only those that were there. There was some part of me that worried that the information would somehow reach Irene's ears all the same, but… it was simply a risk I had to take.

With the alliance made, the budding island kingdom I would leave in my wake had the potential to endure. To entrench itself. What I gained from completing an additional objective for the Lord of Tides Quest was almost secondary, despite it being something I had long sought after.

The third riddle that led to the final piece of what the gods deemed a legendary item.

As the ship drifted towards the docks, I looked down at the blade that lay across my lap. The rudimentary repairs stood in stark contrast to the dark gray steel as I tried to force the two broken pieces of the blade together. I had used the blade in battle a number of times, but it was a rare thing -- the repairs couldn't survive my strongest blows, especially now that I had grown into myself. I wasn't a strong boy any longer. I was a powerful man now, and the difference in strength was notable.

All attempts to further reforge the blade had failed. No matter how hot the flame, the metal would merely glow, but resist any sharpening done to it. The blade had a strange magic to it, and it was as if it was waiting for that final piece to become whole once more.

Given the nature of the Quest, a Grand Quest as I had taken to calling it, I received the additional reward despite the main objective not being completed yet.

Legendary Item Clue #3: An eternally blooming rose once gifted to a princess, grown from the corpse of a mighty dragon. The lesser most treasure in a sea of treasures, both overlooked and repurposed.

The hint was a strange one. So far, all of the hints had been strange, but they at least gave me a direction to go in, even if it wasn't clear at the time. This was pointing me to a specific treasure in a 'sea of treasures', but there were several places that sea of treasures could refer to. Did it mean the treasury of Constantinople? The Umayyads? The Abbasids? Or was the 'sea of treasures' something more metaphorical, as I would consider the Imperial Library to be filled with treasures and it certainly contained enough texts to be described as a sea of them.

To that end, the phrases 'rose grown from the corpse of a dragon' and 'given to a princess' felt like a more viable direction to focus my search. It sounded like quite the tale, though I had not heard of it. Both overlooked and repurposed… I didn't think that the treasure was hiding, per se. The wording made it sound as if those that possessed it had simply forgotten it's value and history, even as they used it.

I doubted they were using a rose as a weapon. A symbol, perhaps? A banner? Or it could be part of a statue. There were a number of possibilities, almost too many, which made me worried about actually finding this 'rose'. Not to mention I had no idea how a rose could repair my sword.

The thump of the longship hitting the dock roused me from my thoughts, and looking up I saw Jasmine watching, seated across from me. When our eyes met, she spoke, "So far, all of your marriages have been rather… unconventional. The only normal betrothal you've had is to Astrid, and you made her a princess in exchange. With Jill, you frollicked across Francia and Saxony after her father tried to kill you before marrying her. Morrigan… are you even married to Morrigan?"

I couldn't stop the snort that escaped me, "She'd tear out my throat with her teeth before I could finish bringing it up."

"That wouldn't surprise me. I can't imagine her accepting the role of a formal concubine either," Jasmine replied. "And now there is myself -- an Abbasid princess that you captured, held hostage, and then married for an alliance that will only take effect after you leave the Mediterranean Sea." That made it sound worse than it really was… mostly.

"Your point?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow as Jasmine's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, telling me that she now wore a slight smile behind her veil.

"You have a very complicated love life, Siegfried. I expect that it'll feature quite heavily in any story told about you -- a pagan king and champion married to three princesses, one of which is the daughter of his most hated enemy, and a witch." Jasmine narrated, sounding more amused than anything. To that, I didn't really have a rebuttal. Not when I already knew some such stories were already being sung. I had heard them myself.

Instead, I swallowed a sigh, "If it is any consolation, I suspect you will be the last wife that I shall take."

"What if you should need to make further alliances in your homeland?" Jasmine questioned, not revealing what she thought of the statement.

"Our children can be the bridge between our peoples, then. I would prefer it if they could marry for love, but they shall be Princes and Princesses of Denmark first and foremost." I would take what burden I could off their shoulders, but to take more wives would just be foolhardy on my part. In truth, even my official betrothal to Jasmine was questionable, but Harun wanted a direct tie to me rather than to my brother-in-law.

Jasmine held my gaze for a moment before she nodded, her eyes showing her hidden smile growing a fraction. I took that as a sign that she approved before I stood up and helped her get off the ship. Men and women gave way as Rajah stalked down the dock, and she chuckled, "I suppose Rajah shall act as my attendant, then. To ensure you don't try anything… improper."

With that, she walked away with Rajah giving me one last lingering look, as if the tiger was deciding which part would taste the best. I just shook my head, watching them go. She was teasing me, but her concerns were valid. Irene hadn't been kind to her reputation in a deliberate attempt to provoke the Abbasids. Something that worked against her now that she had switched paths, focusing on securing the northernmost border and tying the far reaching islands back to the throne.

In any case, I had no plans to act on any perceived freedoms with Jasmine. I was far too busy, even if I did have the desire.

Walking the streets of Norland, I was welcomed to familiar sights, and a few new ones. The rushed construction that had happened prior to the Great Debate had tapered off and settled in the months afterwards as the various projects were completed. In the aftermath, with the outposts that we were commanded to make, my company of engineers had proven their worth by beginning construction outside of their masters' watchful eye.

The feel of the budding city had changed since then. The Abbasid architects had left their mark on the city, and they possessed a style that I and my engineers found appealing. The result was Norland's architecture bearing an odd blending of Norse, Roman, and Arabic styles. I think it also helped soothe some of the people as well -- it made the foreigners to Crete, my people included, feel more at home.

That wasn't to say the issues were settled between the Christians, Muslims, Jews, and Norse, but it would seem that they had all learned to… honestly, even using the word tolerate felt like something of an exaggeration, but it was the closest to what they were doing that I could think of. The simmering anger had cooled as there wasn't any obvious reason for agitation. I didn't think for a moment that it would last, but for now, it was nice.

I was going to miss Norland, I mused, deciding on taking the long route to the Longhouse. It has served well as a test bed for many projects I had planned in the future -- for how I was going to remake Denmark after I assumed the throne. There had been plenty of mistakes made along the way of course. Some out of ignorance, others because the construction of the city has been rushed. Roads and houses that were made when the city possessed no more than five thousand people and were more than adequate to serve the needs of those people became bottlenecks when the population swelled to four times that number.

It wasn't the perfect city by any means. Nor was it perfectly governed. But, even in that, Norland was serving its purpose quite well.

"One more year," I mused quietly to myself. It wasn't as long as I had originally planned to stay in the Mediterranean. I had hoped for four or five years. But, at the rate things were going… Three years was enough to accomplish my goals. The money from the Umayyads would be enough to push the wealth threshold past the goal for the Found A City Quest. Completing the military power aspect would be accomplished as a by-product of Lord of the Tides.

The only real issue was the notable buildings. I had one in mind, but I was still uncertain how I would go about completing it, and that still left me with another notable building that I would have to begin and complete construction on in a year's time.

Perhaps it was that thought that led me to my prized possession. The Library that I had constructed -- it was up and running, the spire standing tall with a path leading to the debate hall that had seen more usage than I'd expected after the Great Debate. The large double doors swung open for me thanks to a thrall assigned to them, allowing me inside where I was immediately greeted with the scent of parchment and ink.

The scribes were working nonstop, some translating texts while others made copies. I had gotten a few remarks from Jill and Jasmine when they saw how much I spent on parchment, ink, and in paying the small army of scribes, but it was well worth it. I possessed a copy of nearly every text in the Imperial library twice over, and over the next year, I would possess copies of all the texts Harun had paid to me in a danegeld.

"Master Wolf-Kissed," a head scribe greeted me, bowing his head. "What topic can we interest you with today?" He asked as I walked past him, looking at the many shelves that were filled with books and scrolls.

"Fetch me anything that deals with the topic of dragons. The source doesn't matter," I answered, making him bow his head once more before the fleet of servants that maintained my library rushed to fulfill the order. Meanwhile, I climbed the stairs leading up to my favored reading room, which granted me a good view of the city and harbor.

There were other things I could be doing, but I wanted to deal with this hint first and foremost. Though, that was much easier said than done as dragons…

Dragons ruled supreme over whatever chosen territory they chose. The result made them the greatest foe to be found in many stories, to the point that it was impossible to tell apart the true dragonslayers, such as my namesake Siegfried who slew Fafnir, and those like myself, who had never seen a dragon but I'm sure I would hear a story about my slaying one nonetheless if I waited long enough at a tavern. It was a feat worthy of legend, and as such, many used that feat to legitimize themselves or boost their renown.

As such, there were many supposed dragonslayers in the pile of scrolls that steadily grew on a table before me. Most of the texts dealt with Romans throughout their empire's history who had either personally claimed to have slain a dragon, or were credited to have. Dozens. Hundreds, even. It was simply messy. Some… I could see a legendary figure such as Julius Caesar slaying a dragon, but I very much doubted that the Gaelic tribes in Gaul would have been able to tame one, like the scroll I read was implying.

Likewise, I also doubted that Darius the Third would have fled from Alexander the Great if he too had a dragon he could command.

Many were fanciful tales. Others felt like they could be true, but could just as likely not be. Then there were the very few that I could readily believe to have happened. The hours started to stretch on as I read, the sun shifting from the early morning to the late afternoon before I found something of interest.

"A Roman warrior of little renown slew a dragon, and from its corpse grew a single red rose. Gifting it to a noble woman, they fell in love and… hm," I muttered, looking at the rather short tale. It was less of a legend, and more of a snippet of a report. There were other texts that had supported the alleged dragonslaying, but more interestingly, the report was attached to a Christian tale of the Roman legionary slaying the dragon due to a blessing of God.

To me, it reeked of the Christian recontextualism that they were so fond of -- such as when they claimed that statues depicting Hera or Aphrodite were instead of the Virgin Mary. This felt much the same. They took a little known tale of a Roman legionary felling a dragon that had been terrorizing a village before gifting a rose to a woman he held dear in his heart, and made the whole story about God.

"I'm lucky," I realized, feeling like I had a more solid direction now. "If I hadn't decided to make a library…" If I hadn't made the decision to just copy everything, relevance or importance be damned, then I likely wouldn't have been able to get my hands on an ancient half-forgotten Roman report that could show me the way. My decisions had paid off with this alone.

"What makes you so lucky?" I heard Jill announce herself, climbing up the stairs. My mood immediately brightened when I saw her. As well as the baby that she carried in her arms. "Your son and I have both missed you."

Much like Ragnar, my second son possessed my fiery red hair, though he possessed her mother's striking bright blue eyes. He was swaddled in a cloth, having entered the world six months ago. With a slight smile, Jill handed me my son as she took a seat at the table.

"Hello, Magnus," I muttered quietly to the baby, cradling him to my chest. Magnus made a small noise at being handed around, his eyes cracking open for just a moment before going right back to sleep. "To answer your question, I found what I was looking for precisely because I hoarded these texts."

That got a small laugh from Jill, "I see! Well, if it was useful once, then I'm sure that justifies you spending more than a small kingdom's worth on this library."

"I'm going to ignore your tone, and just accept the words," I warned her, softly stroking Magnus' back. Ragnar grew too swiftly, I decided. I missed the days when I could just cradle him against me -- now, he was a boundless fount of energy who treated idleness as if it would kill him in any prolonged amount of time. And, for a child, an hour might as well be an eternity.

Jill just gave me a patient smile, "I'm sure. I've already spoken to Jasmine. The details of the alliance still need to be settled, but the hard part is over." She noted, watching us with a fond expression. More so when Magnus decided he wanted to get more comfortable and crawled up my shoulder before babbling in the direction of the window.

"All there is left is to focus on is the war with the Umayyads. After that…" I trailed off, patting my son's back and making sure he didn't make it over my shoulder. "Then we return home."

Jill's reaction was telling. There was an immediate relief as a tension bled out of her posture. "I'm glad to hear it," she admitted quietly. "Our stay here has been… trying. So many doors are closed to us because of our beliefs. It will be nice to be amongst our own people once again."

"Even with what comes with our return?" I asked her, giving her a gentle look.

"I have made my peace with it," Jill replied. "I thought I had before, back when we were in Saxony, but… in the time since, it's settled in. We are married. We have a beautiful son together. My father and brothers… I will weep for them once they pass, but I understand that this conflict is inevitable, and… entirely because of their choices." She said, and I reached out to give one of her hands a reassuring squeeze.

In the end, I had to prepare myself as well. The discussion I had with Otto still lingered in the back of my mind, and even a year later, I was no closer to a solid answer. But I knew I would be no closer to finding one even if I held off on my return for a decade. I would only find my answers when I was before them.

Jill seemed thankful for the reassurance, squeezing my hand in return. "As nice as it is to have a moment to ourselves, the rest of your family has been waiting for your return." She noted, and that fit a small smile out of me. "We held them off with a promise that you would be back for supper, but if you aren't there, I suspect Ragnar will go looking."

"He has an adventurer's spirit," I agreed with a grin.

"The cooks have prepared a picnic. He wants to eat down by the beach," Jill noted as we both got up, though I made no move to hand Magnus back. Our time apart had been short, but it was still too long by my account.

"Then let us indulge the future prince," I said, heading down the stairs after grabbing the promising scroll. I was determined to make the most of these early years. For as I had said to Jasmine, as prince and princess of a kingdom, they would one day have duties that they couldn't shirk. They would have to marry for alliances and to secure the future of the family. Just as I did, just as my brothers did, just as my sisters did.

So, let them experience as much carefree joy as they could before they had to undertake such burdens.

…

Jasmine wasn't wrong. I did have a rather unusual love life, and family. That much was proven as I sat under the shade of a tree, one of the few that could be found, as I gazed out into the ocean with a princess of Norway, a princess of the Abbasids, the daughter of my enemy and a princess in her own right, and a witch of the wilds. Together, with all of our children… and a tiger.

In my lap was the youngest of my daughters, Aífe, though only by minutes. Like all of her siblings she had inherited my red hair, but she had inherited her mother's golden eyes. Much like her twin, Scáthach, who was currently fearlessly crawling to Rajah, treating the tiger as an overgrown house cat. The twins were named for legendary figures from Morrigan's homeland.

Aífe was the sister of a legendary warrior woman known as Scáthach, who had been bestowed peerless talent, beauty, and a great destiny. Aífe, however, had been born to be a beautiful wife but threw away such a destiny. Through grit and determination, she matched her sister's talent and became a warrior that could only be compared to her sister. Yet, she was most famously remembered for being tricked by another legendary figure known as Cú Chulainn, the most famous student of her sister, and siring him a son that he later killed.

That had been a rather sour point for me, but as Morrigan had made clear -- we were not married, thus I had a say in my child's name, but not the final one.

Scáthach, the elder sister, was chosen by destiny by all accounts. A peerlessly talented warrior from the very moment that she first picked up the spear. A warrior queen that never once tasted defeat. Endlessly bold, supremely confident, and accepting of all challenges. Something she seemed to be getting a head start on as she grabbed a handful of fur, making Rajah look at her with Scáthach merely laughing in the face of the tiger's fangs.

"Foolish child -- you risk your own death," Morrigan chided. It spoke volumes at how we had all lost the fear of Rajah, knowing he wouldn't dare attack. I was uncertain what exactly Jasmine did, but she had truly turned the tiger into a domesticated house cat.

"Oh, Rajah wouldn't. He's well used to this by now," Jasmine said, scratching between the ears of her tiger while Scáthach roughly petted his flank. Rajah let out what suspiciously sounded like a groan before resting his head in her lap. "Between me and all the children in Norland, I'd say this is as much of a day for relaxation for him as it is for us."

"Is that what this is?" Astrid wondered, watching Ragnar play in the water with Alim. "It feels like it's been a long while since we had one of those. There's always something going on."

"Such is the nature of power," Morrigan remarked with a huff. I think she was a little annoyed at being brought out here, but hadn't been able to refuse Jill's invitation. "Once you have it, others shall seek it. Should you fail to use it, you'll find that it dissipates like fog in the morning."

"Yeah, yeah -- but it's still been a lot, you know?" Astrid groused, leaning against the tree. "Reforming the army and training recruits is a huge pain in the arse. You've been busy with the whole spy thing. Jill's been doing nothing but going to meetings day in and day out and…" She trailed off, glancing at Jasmine.

She smiled, "I have been busy being a captive."

Astrid snorted, "Sounds exhausting." She replied dryly. "Point is… this is nice."

I understood what she meant. We had been making preparations for the great raid for a year now. That meant smoothing out the command structure and the kinks that we had found with the signal system. It meant training new recruits to replenish not only our numbers, but for future recruitment as well. To that end, the untrained boys that had come to us were better than experienced warriors. Lastly was training our tactics and discipline, overseen by Olek personally.

Morrigan had built up an information network during this time, piggybacking off of the network that Michalis had revealed to us. All of it feeding us information through a web of merchants.

As for myself -- I planned an invasion, built up Norland, and learned what I could from the teachers of the past. None of us had been idle.

I hummed in agreement, watching as Ragnar found something of interest and carried it back to us with all haste. "Father! Father! Look what I found!" He said, holding up another seashell.

"A fine treasure, Ragnar. It shall go into the pile," I declared, taking the seashell from him. There was a sizable pile building up next to me as it was the tenth he had found that met his inconsistent but particular standards. His face lit up in a boyish grin before he scampered off, rushing back to the shore to find more treasures.

Astrid dropped her head onto my shoulder, and I didn't need my expanded vision to know that she was smiling at the sight. I brushed a thumb over the groves of the seashell as I watched my first born son, the waves threatening to topple him every time but he remained standing with sheer determination.

I-

I paused, freezing in thought for just a moment. The waves moved in a constant ceaseless motion, advancing and retreating. The grooves on the seashell…

All the pieces were already there, I realized as a small crooked grin tugged at my lips. It didn't go unnoticed by the others as Jill cast me a glance, "I know that look, Siegfried. What is it?"

Steam was too costly and inefficient. So, why not use water instead? An aqueduct to carry the water, some kind of lever… or wheel to catch the water, using its weight to turn a room that was on a number of balls that were within a set groove. The water wheel would turn, it would be connected to the axel that would turn the dining room. It was simple. And, with it, I would have my fourth notable building.

I just chuckled, dropping the seashell into the pile.

"Something to do tomorrow."

…

At long last, we have hit chapter 100 and this chapter feels like the perfect chapter to hit this milestone with. Sieg's family has grown a little larger, and he gets to kick his feet up to relax a little. It also feels like the perfect time to make the announcement that we're almost done with the Byzantine arc -- it went on longer than I expected, but we have around 5-10 chapters left before we head back to Scandinavia.

I've gotten a couple of questions about the length of the story and how much we have left -- and to that, I say we still have a ways to go. I didn't know how long of a story Legends Never Die was going to be when I first started it, but I knew it was going to be a long one. So, to that end, know that LND won't end when we go back to Denmark. I have plans beyond it. As by the time Sieg returns, the Viking Age shall begin.

I found the Balearic Islands quite beautiful. They were beautiful in the same way Crete was, though unlike Crete, there was significantly more greenery: trees, grass, and shrubbery… combined with the mountainous terrain, which featured steep, sheer white cliff sides, soft sand beaches, and shallow harbors boasting brilliant blue waters…

It felt like the gods were tempting me at times. Tempting me to stay in this land, to leave my quest for vengeance behind. I could do it. The alliance with the Abbasid was all but official. I could rule over these islands. I could build cities upon them, enriched from the spoils taken from Francia's underbelly. My homeland had its own beauty, but this place…

It was easy to live here. There were no snows that left you trapped in your own home for months on end. The soil wasn't poor and littered with stones. The sea didn't freeze. It would be simple to just stay and bask in all that I have built. It would be an easier life for my children. I'm sure this land had its own thorns, but… they were irrelevant. My destiny lay in Denmark.

However, that was the future. As of right now, I had far closer concerns.

"What in the names of the gods is that man doing?" I asked myself, gazing out at the sea as the tide lapped at my boots. I couldn't see the man in question, but I knew what he was doing. "I can't tell if this is the masterstroke of a genius or the dumbest shit I've ever seen. And I grew up with seven older brothers."

To the side of me, Thorkell let out a bark of laughter. "I think that'll only be answered if the gambit succeeds or fails."

When I spoke of the plan to deal with the Umayyad's fleet, I had put forth that there were two real paths that the enemy commander could take -- condense their forces, or spread them out. Each path had its own strengths and weaknesses, but I concluded that condensing the fleet was the better path. It would leave the coastal cities open to me, but I wasn't really the threat that the Umayyads had to be concerned about. That was the Abbasids that would be sailing to Hispania, and the massive fleet, however dubious the quality of its ships, was their one true way to dissuade an attack until the Franks were dealt with.

The Umayyad commander thought differently than I, and found a third path.

Going on the offensive.

"When can we expect them?" I asked Thorkell, as he had delivered the news. I scratched at my cheek, knowing that nearly a hundred miles beyond the sea, the Umayyads had gathered their strength in a city called Valencia. Over a thousand ships, though a significant portion of them were repurposed fishing and merchant vessels. Their positioning was just off the nearest island that we chose to land on, as it offered the shortest trip to Hispania's coastline.

Our arrival had been anticipated, and that is what made me cautious. Our intentions to raid the Umayyads weren't strictly a secret. Caliph Harun knew. I had informed Irene of my intentions and, as my mercenary contract stipulated that I was to fight her enemies in a time of peace, I had free reign to attack who I liked. Though, I imagine she would have preferred I raided foes closer to home. Lastly, Charlemagne knew I was going to raid as I sent an agreement to him prior.

I expected that the Umayyads had spies in various courts, as well as inside Norland itself. They likely learned of my intentions there. However, that didn't explain how they had reacted so… prudently. Maneuvering a fleet of a thousand ships was no trifling matter, so they had to have started moving into position before we had even set sail. Meaning that the commander had to have seen through my plan and for some reason that I struggled to fathom, he was going on the offensive.

"They're staying together, so I expect we'll see them by noon," Thorkell answered, and I frowned. Taking the offensive put me in an awkward spot. They had enough ships to blockade whatever island we stayed on, but that was only if they focused on us. I was confident that we could break out of the blockade, but against such numbers, it would be messy.

"Have Hoffer take our longships to greet them. He'll harass them on their approach and keep a portion out of the noose the commander is trying to slip around our necks," I instructed. "Meanwhile, fortify the village. I don't expect them to attack it, but I didn't expect them to attack us in the first place."

"And our other ships?" Thorkell questioned as we had taken a number of Abbasid warships with us. They were significantly slower than our longships, but they didn't have the weakness that our longships had -- they sat higher in the water. Attacking elevated ships from a lower position gave the defenders a dangerous advantage. Thus, it was decided that our longships would be used to harass the enemy, while the warships would be how we fought them.

"Use them as bait," I decided, having no real attachment to them. "If we lose them, then the ships we take from the Umayyads will more than make up for it."

"I like the sound of it. By your leave, then," Thorkell said, leaving me alone on the shore as I continued to gaze out at Hispania. I could feel it in my gut that somewhere in that land was the rose that I sought. The final piece of the puzzle that would allow me to reforge the blade at my hip.

A thousand ships or not, they wouldn't get in my way, and I wouldn't stop plundering the nation until I found it.

…

Hoffer sailed out with twenty ships, greeting the Umayyads with arrows. Sadly, Tatzates hadn't secured the recipe for Greek Fire as of yet, though he did assure me he was close. I wasn't sure if I believed him, so I had steadily increased the pressure to help motivate him. Though, even if I did have it, I couldn't have used it here. Not without inviting questions from Irene. Ideally, she'd only learn that I had Greek Fire when she heard tales of it when I was back in Denmark.

Meanwhile, the rest of my army secured our position. And it was a sight to behold.

A year was enough time to turn boys and girls into men and women. To turn green novices into experienced warriors. My army had undergone significant changes in preparation for this attack as well as to compensate for the lack of expected veteran warriors. The core of my army was still the three thousand veterans that had first sailed with me. Who had won their arms and armor in Norway, then in Greece, and then in Crete.

Our numbers were bolstered by mercenaries that flocked to my banner in the aftermath of Ravenfeast, bringing us to five thousand. I only took those who had met my expectations and standards, which were precious few in comparison to the number of those who wished to join me. However, in the past year, another change had been implemented.

Just as I trained the young of my people, I started to accept the young orphans of both Roman and Abbasid descent. The decision was made after a remark from Jasmine, who had in turn heard the remark from Otto about the hardships orphans faced. The lack of kin not only made surviving childhood difficult, but it greatly reduced the possibilities a child might otherwise have. Often times it wasn't enough to have talent for a trade -- it required connections to earn such an apprenticeship.

We began to take them in, guiding them and training them along our own path. I expected the majority to stay behind, and it was they that I hoped would become the core of Hoffer's army.

The results spoke for themselves as my army swelled to ten thousand strong. Of the five thousand recruits we possessed, only a thousand had earned their arms and armor, but it was during this campaign that the rest hoped to become full members of the mercenary company.

Now, as they fortified the village that we commandeered, I saw their training in action. They chopped down trees, dug trenches, stacked rocks, or littered them over a field to make walking in a formation difficult. Within hours, overseen and directed by my team of engineers, the village became a small fort with a palisade. It was exactly what I had envisioned when I sought to replicate the ability of Roman engineers, who were as much the reason for so many Roman victories as their armies were.

The work was completed just as the Umayyad ships arrived on the horizon. My longships did their job well, harrying them with arrows and javelins but never drifting too close. Yet, it was as they began to near the island that I realized something was afoot.

"... what is that man doing?" I repeated, watching as the Umayyads fleet fan out, yet still sail directly for us. Towards the island.

"Looks like they're going to disembark," Athrun said, gazing out at the mass of ships. He didn't need his sharp vision to see that much. I could see that much.

The news was no less bewildering to hear it from someone else. "... Here?" I stressed, looking at the beach before the fort. Which was inhabited by my army. Who could, quite easily, contest any landing. Not to mention that the beach front was hardly large enough to land a thousand ships at once. Being exceptionally generous, it could land perhaps two hundred.

There were two other landing points nearby that could handle the level of disembarkment that the Umayyads were trying to accomplish for some inane reason. One of which I had placed my warships to bait them into dividing their attention to seize them. Only they weren't trying to land nearby. They were trying to land on every single beachfront on the island.

Assuming that every ship had as little as ten men, then we faced a force of ten thousand. Assuming there were as many as a hundred, then we faced a force of a hundred thousand strong. Both estimations were opposite extremes, so I would assume that it was somewhere in the middle. Which still put their numbers in the tens of thousands.

"This is…" I trailed off, not even sure what to make of it. It was the stupidest thing I had ever seen. Bar none. Yet, it was so stupid that it might have looped around to being brilliant. "They intend to crush us with sheer numbers."

No grand strategy. No thoughts. Just shoving thousands of men in our direction until we grew exhausted killing them all. It was nothing less than horrific simplicity. And I still couldn't tell if the commander was a genius or an idiot.

Because he had effectively tied my hands. I had to contest the landings. Even if they were just fishermen and farmers, assuming my estimation was in the middle, that was still fifty thousand men bearing down on us. If I didn't stop them from landing, then we would get overwhelmed. By forcing me to garrison every landing point, I would spread my forces thin. Too thin. No hope of reinforcements or rest.

Yet, if I didn't, I would be allowing a significantly larger force to land where they would then overwhelm us. Even assuming victory, I would take unacceptable losses that would kill any thought of further raiding in the cradle. I had to stop them from landing.

Or… did I?

"We feint," I decided, watching as the Umayyads sent a veritable wave of fishing vessels directly towards us. Intent on tying us down first and foremost while the rest of the fleet started to sail inward.

"Meaning?" Athrun questioned and I smiled.

"We don't fight them at all," I said, deciding to kill the plan. I began to give out orders with an arrow with a burning rag tied to it was shot in the direction of Hoffer. He would know what it meant, even if he didn't understand why. His ships broke off, retreating to another one of the islands while the Umayyad noose closed in.

The fishing ships arrived first, and in them were well-equipped men. Career soldiers. They deftly disembarked as fast as they possibly could, even under the hail of arrows. There were hundreds of them. And their lives were utterly thrown away either in a pathetic waste or a clever tactic to delay us. To keep us tied up.

The act of disembarking wasn't a simple one. As part of the training, my men had practiced the maneuver because an army was vulnerable in the time between they were on ships and on ground. But, even with rigorous training, disembarking ten thousand men took no less than five hours. And that was a speed that even Olek was satisfied with. To disembark with a thousand ships? With men that weren't truly trained?

It was a mess. An absolute slog. It was disorganized chaos of the highest order.

And, it was then that we did the last thing that the Umayyads expected.

We left.

We boarded the warships and left the island behind, heading to its neighbor -- the much larger island some fifty miles away. All under the cover of darkness, simply vanishing into the night. The Umayyads were unaware at first. Then when they were aware, they assumed we retreated inland in preparation for a battle. The whole mess was so disastrous that it took them three days to form up into a cohesive army that scoured the land for any sign of us.

It was then that we revealed ourselves, pouncing where they were weakest.

Their ships. They were hardly unguarded, of course. They just weren't prepared for an all-out assault on their rear when they thought their enemy was before them. The result was us stealing a significant portion of their fleet, burning what we couldn't take with us, and simply bringing it all back to a town called Palma.

Effectively leaving what turned out to be thirty thousand men stranded on an island. A better army would have been able to survive such a development, but the army amassed was hardly one in the first place. When they learned that they were stranded, they collapsed. Some tried swimming back to the mainland or to Palma, but given the number of bodies that washed up on the shore, few made the trip.

The vast majority, however, simply dissolved as an army. When we sailed by them to check what happened, I found entirely new villages dotting the shoreline. They called out to us, asking for a trip to Palma or the mainland or for food, nails, and timber. And, when we obliged, I found that the entire affair amounted to moving thirty thousand people to an island that many were content to stay on on the condition that they brought their families.

No surrender was given. None was asked for. The ones responsible for the whole mess had apparently drowned trying to swim back to Hispania. Leaving me with a densely populated island, a grand fleet of over a thousand ships, and a coastline that was almost entirely undefended.

And I still had no idea if I had defeated an excellent tactician who thought well outside the box or a bumbling idiot who genuinely had absolutely no idea what he was doing.

Yet, whether he was a fool or a genius, the only one to come closer to defeating me was Roland on the field of battle. So, I would remember the unnamed commander for that, if nothing else.

…

Regardless of the tactical decision's merits, the aftermath revealed it to be a blunder of the highest order. The Umayyads' coastline was left exposed well beyond my earliest expectations. I had expected it to take time to chip away at their fleet in a series of battles and ambushes, the entire process taking at least a month. Instead, the fleet was dealt with in about three days with the mainland completely ignorant of the disaster they suffered.

So, I painstakingly informed them.

Hispania's coastline was savaged in a way that I had difficulties describing. We pounced upon it like wolves that found their way into a chicken coop, plundering and marauding endlessly. I maintained the strict discipline that I had imposed since coming to these lands -- no rape. Those who surrendered went unharmed. Every piece of loot taken was put into a single spot with shares given out. In comparison to what it could have been, our rampaging was relatively bloodless. How we ravaged the coastline was that we made the Umyyads bleed silver and gold in such volume it was as if we had severed an artery.

Barcelona was the first city that fell to us. An ancient city by any stretch of the imagination, it was plundered for everything that it was worth -- spices, textiles, pottery, dyes, foodstuffs, and more. Everything that had value was loaded onto our ships that were forced to make no less than six trips back and forth to Palma. If my soldiers were disappointed that there was no true battle with the Umyyads, then the spoils more than made up for it.

With Barcelona alone, the raid was successful. Yet, Barcelona was merely the beginning.

Tarragona was next, and it was then that it started to dawn upon me the sheer magnitude of the prize that was before me. I knew that Hispania was a rich region. Exceptionally so. I knew it, but I didn't understand. At least not until the city was taken virtually without a fight. It was there that I found silver that didn't measure in the hundreds of pounds, but the thousands. Mines from the surrounding areas flowed to the city on the coast, likely stockpiled to pay the wages of soldiers.

The city was plundered over the course of days as we seized everything of worth, particularly silversmiths and other artisans. They were all offered the same arrangement as the craftsmen taken from the Abbasids: enslavement and freedom upon passing on their techniques and knowledge to students.

After Tarragona, the raid was not only a success but one so great that it was worthy of a Runestone. A tale that fathers would pass on to their descendants of how they took part in a great raid, and one day, their grandchildren would tell the story to their grandchildren with pride. With how the shares were divided, every warrior in my army could retire after purchasing a plot of land to spend the rest of their life tilling.

Yet, we did not stop at Tarragona.

Valencia fell to us next. Followed by the town of Albacete up a river called Jucar. The former was every bit as rich as Tarragona had been, with protests starting to come from Palma, saying that they were running out of room to store all of the treasures taken. So, we began to break down the cities themselves to send them building supplies, using the stolen ships to great effect until there was almost a land bridge of ships flowing to and from the outpost.

Alacant fell next, followed by Murcia, which was up the Segura river. It was at that point we were compelled to expand the type of thralls that we took, including general laborers to man the ships and haul the boundless treasures. In a matter of weeks, Palma went from being a modest town to a budding city.

When we arrived at the city of Cartagena, we saw Abd al-Rahman's first response. Word spread of our arrival and our exploits, leaving villages fleeing from us while the bare-bones garrison forces made to head us off. But after a decisive victory on the field against a smaller and ill-equipped army, we were left unopposed in the depths of his kingdom.

It was then that he made a choice. A ruthless decision that he had to make, simply because the Umayyad Caliph had no good choices to pick from. He could divide his army and march south in the hopes of cutting me off… or he could maintain his strength in the north and prepare for Charlemagne's assault. After a messenger tried to pay me off to simply leave his lands, an offer I rejected simply because unless he gave me the kingdom itself, he couldn't protect it from me… he made his decision.

Abd al-Rahman decided to stay in the north, leaving the south to be ravaged in the hopes that after he defeated Charlemagne, he could sweep down and defend it. The loss of wealth, skilled craftsmen, and able administrators would be painful. Recovery would be long. And, in all likelihood, the Caliphate would be hobbled for a generation before they could hope to recover. Yet, even that was a better fate than being conquered, if only barely.

The end result was that Almeria, Malaga, and Marabella all swiftly fell to me in rapid succession. All the while, I used the rivers of Hispania to great avail, plundering the inner landmass and the river-based villages and towns. Over the course of two and a half months, the Great Raid of Hispania, as some had taken to calling it, reached Algeciras, and more importantly, the only true opening to the Mediterranean Sea.

The Gibraltar Straight.

Beyond it, I knew, lay the great sea. An endless ocean that was undoubtedly the sea that Jormungand dwelled beneath. Some part of it called out to me, compelling me to set sail merely to see what lay beyond the horizon. Perhaps in another life I might have done exactly that, but my interests didn't lay in that direction.

My interests lay northward.

…

"If they're going to mount any kind of significant defense, it's going to be at Cordoba," I voiced on top of a horse as my army marched forward. "It's their capital," I said, watching as my army marched inland. Away from the coast and the rivers. "Though, the bulk of their forces lay at the Pyrenees mountains."

Abd al-Rahman had been scraping the barrel with the fleet. There were still plenty of people in Hispania, but you could only mobilize so many of the menfolk before you encountered difficulties like having no one to sow the fields, reap the harvest or to perform the various other tasks necessary for a kingdom to function.

"Feel comfortable betting it all on that?" Thorkell asked me as we marched with my army. My scouts looked far and wide for any sign of resistance while my men marched in a long column. Our ships remained in Algeciras with a small garrison. Enough to safeguard them, but not enough to diminish our strength overly much. "We have a hundred times the point of having enough. Raids work best when you're hitting them fast and getting out faster."

I knew that. Perhaps it was simply greed. The flower was somewhere in this kingdom, but in the two months we raided, every lead I had pursued turned out to be false. Risking a march inland would be less of a raid and more of an invasion. It wasn't even that I was softening up the south for the Abbasid invasion that was just now starting to mobilize - I would be doing it myself.

"Aye, we do," I admitted. I had plundered enough from the Umayyads that I could build new cities on the Balearic Islands if I felt like it. Enough silver and gold that I could probably just buy a kingdom. "But this is a rare opportunity. Our time in the Mediterranean nears its end. The cities of this kingdom are undefended, and any spoils that we take are spoils that shall be denied Charlemagne."

"I'm not arguing that it's a solid idea. I'm asking if it's worth the risk," Thorkell repeated, and to that…

"I suppose it depends on if I find what I'm looking for," I admitted. To that, Thorkell shrugged, accepting the answer and trusting that I knew what I was doing. And given the success so far, I had more than earned that trust.

Our march was quick, though not nearly as fast as it had been with our ships. The Umayyads provided our baggage train, and the food we stole sustained us as we marched inland. Each day, we made camp and built a fortification to dwell in, and each time we did it, the process became a little easier, a little smoother.

Despite my confidence, I did expect some degree of resistance as we made our way to the capital, but it never manifested. At least not in any meaningful way. There was the occasional skirmish with our scouts, but those were with independent actors who were motivated out of fear for their villages rather than any united army. In a way, it was almost a disappointment when we arrived at Cordoba, spying the city in the distance. Less than a day's march away.

There was no army to bar our way. There was, however, a messenger.

"I greet you in the glorious name of Hisham Al-Reda ibn Abd ar-Rahman," the messenger announced, seated upon a horse as he attempted to keep fear off of his face. "Heir to the Caliphate! In his name, he invites you to negotiate terms of peace between our peoples."

Hisham, the heir to the throne but a fully grown man in his own right. I knew less of him than I did his father. "Is that so?"

The messenger's horse shifted as the man tensed. "It is true. His eminence has invited you to the royal palace, along with a contingent of guards. He also offers his son Abu al-As al-Hakam, as a hostage, should you doubt his word."

I did more than just doubt his word. I had rampaged across his father's kingdom, paved the way for an invasion… I would be genuinely shocked if the man wasn't willing to accept the death of his son merely to kill me in an act of vengeance.

"The offer is welcomed, but I am afraid I cannot accept an invitation to the royal palace," I said, and the refusal didn't seem to surprise the messenger. "However, I am open to meeting the esteemed Hisham Al-Reda upon a neutral ground outside of the city. I shall leave my army where it is, ten miles from Cordoba, as a gesture of good faith." I said, placing a hand upon my arm ring as I made the oath, but I doubt he understood the gesture.

The messenger nodded his head, taking my answer to Cordoba.

"What's the point?" Thorkell asked me as we watched him go.

"I want to see what they have to say," I admitted. I had already refused one danegeld already. I doubted they could offer me more than I could take from them if I truly wished it. However, I did have an inkling what exactly they wished to talk to me about beyond begging me to stop raiding their cities.

The answer came swiftly -- Hisham agreed to meet five miles outside of the city, dead in the center, to return the gesture of good faith. A pavilion was swiftly erected, servants in attendance, and a contingent of guards kept at a polite distance away. Given that the location was set in the middle of a field, with no obstructions in any direction, the act told me that Hisham was cautious but eager to negotiate.

I decided to respond in kind, wearing clothing instead of armor with only my sword at my belt. A contingent of fifty warriors followed me to the negotiation.

It was there that I met Hisham, a man in his late twenties to early thirties. He had dark skin and a bushy beard, but he wore rather simple clothing. He almost seemed out of place when he was flanked by two others wearing yards of silk and jewels.

Hisham: Patient. Calm. Kind.​His traits marked him as someone trustworthy, though True Vision marked him as an enemy. That I was willing to accept in good faith. If someone had done to me as I had done to his kingdom, I'd hate them too. There was an anger lurking in his eyes, but it was restrained.

"Lord Siegfried the Wolf-Kissed. Your reputation is well deserved," Hisham greeted me as I took a seat on an offered chair. His voice was without warmth. "What you have done… I suppose it is an accomplishment."

"You do not have to force yourself, Prince Hisham," I told him. "I am well aware of what I have done. Don't force yourself to offer platitudes we both know you don't mean."

To that, Hisham held my gaze for a moment before he inclined his head to me. "Then I shall speak plainly," he said, snapping a finger. In response, slaves began to march forward, working in teams to carry heavy chests to the center of the pavilion. Then, without a word, they began to dump the contents upon the colorful rug.

Gold and silver began to spill out, joined together with precious jewels -- rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and diamonds. They came in the form of coins, candlesticks, artifacts, and more. Then, as soon as the first chest was empty, a second chest was dumped. Then a third. A fourth. A fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, and ninth. The servants only stopped coming after the tenth chest was dumped out, creating a pile of treasure. A hoard worthy of a king.

There was a time when I would have been awed by the sight -- dumbfounded. My jaw would have gone slack, and I would have been left staring at the treasure with naked disbelief.

Instead, I merely raised an eyebrow in Hisham's direction, silently asking for an explanation.

He obliged me, "Cease your invasion, Lord Siegfried. Do so, and you shall receive a hundred mules, each laden with a chest filled just as you witnessed now. They shall be sent to you in Algeciras, where you shall remain until their arrival. Upon receiving the sum, you shall leave our lands and never return. So I shall have you swear to your gods and to Allah."

I gazed down at the pile of treasure. All of it the finest quality. It had spread out a bit, but sitting down, it came up to my chest. A hundred more of that…

What an outrageously wealthy kingdom. It honestly was bewildering that they had so much wealth still left over because I could tell he was being honest. It clued me into what the prince had done. While I had raided his eastern and southern coast, he drew from his western and northern provinces. Likely securing enough wealth to pay me off, or failing that, an army.

I could see his plan: He would stop me with the negotiations, allowing him enough time to muster up another army to drive me off if needed. But paying me off was the preferred method since they were very much aware of their predicament and had no interest in adding my name to their list of enemies.

I stood up, making the guards still, their hands going to their weapons. I ignored them as Hisham held them at bay with a gesture, watching me like a vicious snake. Taking a step forward, the gold, silver, and jewels shifted underfoot as I climbed to the top of the pile. There was a heavy silence as they watched me brush it aside, but I could sense their ill-disguised disgust. They thought I was mocking them.

I was looking for something. I tossed aside precious gemstones, tales of gold and silver, even crowns and jelwery. They didn't hold my interest. What did, however, was a book. It was near the bottom of the pile as I caught sight of it during the second chest. It was thick and heavy, likely only added as it was covered in gold and gemstones. Undoing the golden gilded latch, I flipped the tome open to find something between the pages.

A pressed rose. It shone gold to True Vision, and a wide smile spread across my face. "What a treasure you have given me," I said, running a finger over the rose. It was pressed down, flattened for I could only guess how long, yet the stem remained a vibrant green, and the pedals a brilliant red. Even before my very eyes, it seemed to recover from being a forgotten bookmark. "What a treasure indeed!"

Hisham seemed genuinely perplexed that even as I stood upon a hoard of gold, silver, and gemstones, the only thing that had my attention was a dusty old book. "Do we have an agreement?"

"I shall accept your terms for peace," I agreed readily, already having what I wanted. A hundred chests of treasure was just an added bonus. I looked down at Hisham, in a genuine good mood and an unconquerable smile upon my face. "Now… shall we discuss the price to hire my services?"

Hisham's expression revealed a naked need, and I almost felt bad for the man, especially since I didn't intend to sell my army to him to use against the enemy he wished to wield it against.

In the end, I had upheld my end of the bargain. I raided throughout the Umayyad Caliphate. And now I intend to return to my homeland by this time next year. Any leverage that Charlemagne had upon me had vanished like smoke in the wind.

It was time that the Frankish King learned he could not make demands of me.

...