Homelands
Chapter Thirty One: The Snowy North
Part 3
Prelude:
King Håkon made a very ill-advised decision in 1304. After five years of marriage the Norwegian King divorced himself from Roze, the daughter of King Kiten of Prussia and then had her executed for no crime other than being his ex-wife. In Prussia it was seen as a huge travesty to spill the blood of the royal family. Kiten himself was outraged. He demanded compensation and he demanded an apology, neither of which Norway was willing to give. King Håkon quickly wed the daughter of the King of Sweden in an attempt to unite the thrones. He almost seemed to gloat over Kiten's anger, but soon found himself facing war threats and blockades. Prussia meant business. Back in Memelgrád a new spy master came to power, Prince Vishly. His teacher, Nomedas, had contracted cholera and died only a month after Roze left for Norway. Vishly, now wed to Ziedás, took the spy master position very seriously. He soon produced usable results for the war against Norway. No one questioned his methods, no one really wanted to know how he was able to quickly figure out what they needed to know. Many just assumed he had the same network of spies as Nomedas but that he was able to pay better than his late cousin. This couldn't be farther from the truth. Vishly was an efficient interrogator, but one who worked behind closed doors.
Norway and Sweden in 1304 before the war with Prussia.
July 18th, 1305
Kiten paced around the interrogation room. At the center was a sea captain captured by the Prussians. The style and cost of his clothing gave him away as a noble, one who would have information on the war. Vishly stood in a corner, listening to his father mutter about the course of the war and the issues the Prussians were facing trying to supply their troops across the Baltic Sea. Vishly dismissed his father's worrying as Prussia greatly outnumbered both of the Scandinavian nations.
"What are you looking for father?" Vishly asked, growing impatient. "I cannot give you what you want if I don't know what that is first." Kiten continued to pace. He looked weak in front of their guest. Vishly glanced down at the man, tied and bound to the chair. He looked arrogant. Never the less, in a few hours he would be broken, like a board over a thigh. Tears mixing in a pool of his own blood. Vishly's hand moved over a velvet bag hanging on his belt. He felt the its hard contents. The made him smile.
"Vishly! We need to know where the enemy has holed up! We control the south, but still they fight. Raids and mere love bites, but we cannot do this forever. I want this war over by the end of next year! Do you understand?"
"I do father, I am surprised that you are worried about my abilities, have I failed you before?" Vishly was genuinely concerned. He had never been asked if he understood. Kiten stopped and looked at his son.
"Sometimes I worry about you, Vishly. I don't know. Maybe it is the premonitions of death, but for some reason I feel I am losing you to something terrible." The King put his hand on Vishly's shoulder and smiled. "I love you, and I am proud. I don't know why I let these thoughts bother me."
"You are only doing what is natural for a father, I could expect no less from you." His face lit up and it made Kiten feel comfortable, even in the dank and dark. "Is there anything else I can go with? Do we know who he is? Do we hold his castle, his wife, his children? Anything?"
Kiten shook his head, "Nay. We only have his word on his name, and I am not one to trust him. We only have his word on his name, and I am not one to trust him. But you've done better with less, so I guess that is why you are the master when it comes to such things."
"Yes, I guess that is why. And you are right, there need not be anything to worry about. Either he knows are he doesn't. Likeliness is that he knows. His ship was carrying food and equipment for an army. I doubt he was ferrying it out of Sweden, more likely taking them up into Finland so they can move the stuff over land to the armies without us tracking them." Vishly crossed his arms and lowered his face, it was all too easy.
"That makes sense," the King nodded and pointed to the prisoner, "If you can prove it, we'll deal with it."
"I will get right on it father." Kiten walked off. The door ominously shut behind Vishly as he turned to face the prisoner.
"You two are so cute. What are you going to do to me you little boy? Noogie me until I talk?" the Prisoner asked. Vishly smiled, but tightened the ropes, he made sure the prisoner wasn't going anywhere. "You know, your elder asked you a question, you should answer it."
"I will answer..." Vishly said in a friendly and even tone, "But I will answer through actions and not through petty words." His voice lost its boyish charm, instead it faded into a flat and bored tone, as if Vishly was aging right before the prisoner's eyes. "See," he began, "I could tell you I am the best interrogator in all of Europe. I could tell you how I can get anyone to confess to anything no matter how far removed they were from it. But..." the Prince paused turning to look at the prisoner, "Talk is cheap and I would much rather... show you."
Vishly walked to the door and locked it. He then took the velvet bag off his belt and hung it in front of the prisoner, who was now starting to get agitated. "See, we are very alike... you and me..." Vishly said, putting the bag down in the prisoner's lap, "Every now and then a day comes when a man just has to accept the fate that has been presented to him. I've done it before. I've taken the blame for things I've never done. And now, if you are lucky you will too... But for now we are going to start with the easy questions..."
"Heh, you talk like a big man. What are you? Fifteen? Sixteen at most? Have you ever even felt the warm of a woman's secret?"
Vishly laughed. The prisoner's words missed their mark. Not just because they were wrong, but because Vishly was in control. Every action, every work, every tiny detail was under Vishly's complete discretion. When he was in control, there was no reason to take offense. It was like a fox gnawing its own foot off to escape the trap. It might think it helps, but for what good? To bleed later? Vishly carefully and slowly opened the bag up and showed the prisoner its contents. Teeth, nothing but teeth. "Do you know where I'd get such a collection?" Vishly asked.
"The tooth fairy?"
"From scum like you, boy." Vishly took the bag off the prisoner's lap and placed it on the floor under the chair. He walked to the edge of the room and took down a blunt instrument. A small hammer, he looked back at the prisoner while he tossed the instrument between his hands. "The first question is where is your King hiding the armies of Scandinavia?" he said with a perk in his voice.
"I am never going to betray my country men to you!"
"All the better," Vishly said as he raised the hammer high.