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Indeed it is, and hopefully i won't be this slow with the next chapters, but that damned real life keeps getting in the way of stuff that is actually important!

Such is life! :p

But it's always a pleasant surprise when an update pops up in an AAR that one is following and, it would have otherwise appeared, the author abandoned it for un-forseen reasons.
 
No Rest for the Wicked

Slesvig was a mess. Frirek’s father had always focused on war and raiding rather than law and taxes, this lack administrative capability had come at the expense of proper governance of his realm. This had especially hit Slesvig hard since it was the county that was furthest away from the capital, that combined with Yngvar’s usurpation followed by Skuli’s siege and conquest of it had made it an unstable mess where the only authority came from individuals who had the wealth to hire lawless brigands who harassed the defenceless peasants. Frirek recognized that these problems were caused by his own family’s vainglory, and decided to focus on governance and development of his own realm, rather than try and war his way to fame and fortune like his father had.

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One day, while Frirek was getting up from bed, Boleslava would approach Frirek on the matter of their children. “Husband,” she said, “I think it is time for our sons to come home.” they had decided that it would be best if Frirek’s children were not in Jylland while the war wall still going on; his brothers had taken half his kingdom, what would stop them from taking his heirs? “The war is over and I miss them dearly.” She said this in a cold manner; her face and body was as utterly without emotion as the empty sockets that stared at Frirek. She was never rude, but rarely ever warm. Frirek answered “I will send a ship to get them immediately.” She nodded, and then smiled, “They have a new sibling on the way.” She said as her smile widened and her mask disappeared.

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Frirek leaned in to embrace her but was interrupted when Glod burst in through the door. “We have a problem.” She said, not bothering with courtesy. “It can wait.” he answered, to engulfed in the moment to worry about anything that was not his wife or child. “There is an army of fifteen hundred men attacking your drots in the angle lands.” Frirek was snapped out of his bliss. “Are we being invaded by the Christians?” “No, the drots of Wiltshire, Winchester and Essesx have rebelled and are fighting for independence. They are being led by a man named Hrörekr”

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“Traitorous bastards!” he shouted as he slammed his fist into the wall. “But wait…” he said “how can three Æser worshipping drots manage to raise a thousand and a half men from Christ worshipping angles?”



Two days earlier at midnight, near the entrance to the River Thames.

Hrörekr was sitting with only four of his men around a small fire which was barely being kept alive; they were 12 leagues from London as the crow flies. “Are we sure he can see the fire?” one of his men said “Maybe we should gather more wood?” another said, “He will come.” Hrörekr said. That shut them up, but after a few more minutes of waiting and mead they started to complain again, “He expects to go to war but won’t even show up for the meeting he planned?” Hrörekr said nothing, but a voice answered from the darkness, “He needed to get some firewood.” The men jumped up in a defensive position, with the two axe wielders gripping their large two-handers and stepping towards the voice while the two others took their swords and shields and walked in front of Hrörekr. “Impressive formation, though it would have been better if you had spotted me before I got so close, I could easily hit an arrow through his throat from here.” The axe wielders snarled and stepped closer towards the man. “Hold! He is our guest.” Hrörekr commanded, and his men obeyed. “Your men are very obedient, but then who could resist a pretty face like yours?” Hrörekr clenched his fists and grit his teeth but did not harm the man, which was a rare case self-restraint for him considering that commenting on his unusually small ears meant the commenter would lose his own, and not even the gods can imagine what happened to the people who dared to even acknowledge his nostrils.

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The man did not seem to notice his anger, but sat down and started to stoke the fire with his new wood. “Welcome Haraldr Fairhair. Can we get on with the reason we decided to meet?” “That is what I am doing. How many men do you and your allies have?” “We have gathered five hundred men who are waiting a league from here, will that be enough.” “No, this is why I have brought more.” Haraldr answered, he then picked up a piece of burning log and started waving it in the air. Out of the darkness Hrörekr could see ships arriving; first five, then ten, then sixteen, then twenty four and they kept coming until there were now thirty three ships near the shore. Out of the largest ship a man leapt down into the shallow water and walked up to Haraldr and Hrörekr. “The ships are here,” he said, “a thousand men total.” “With these ships you can travel up the Thames and launch a surprise attack on London. I would also recommend sending three hundred men to harass Frirek on his own soil.” Haraldr said. Hrörekr was still reeling from the surprise of being given one thousand men, and only responded after having the statement repeated. “Yes… yes I think that would be a good idea.” he finally managed to stammer out, “But won’t your lands be in jeopardy without an army to defend it?” Haraldr smiled “These are not my men, they were Frirek’s. He called them, released them and then I hired them, quite easy really.” Hrörekr and his men walked away to resume control of his new army and fleet, leaving Haraldr and the man who jumped off the boat alone “How would attacking Frirek near his home be a good idea? Surely it would only result in more aggression from him rather than make him surrender?” “That is what I am counting on,” Haraldr said, “we want Frirek to use as much manpower as possible, and sending a small group of men for him to destroy will not only boost his confidence but also even out the playing field. Moreover, the actual outcome of the war is meaningless, that matters is that he is too distracted to stop the actual plan. Are you and your men ready cousin?” The man nodded.

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They had gathered what they could; seven hundred and fifty men were what they had, and Skuli had formed a plan in order to defeat the three hundred men who had landed on the south western shore. The plan was simple; use the cover of the sand dunes to hide the archers and a small number of longspear men at their landing site, while the invaders are distracted by the archer fire Frirek and the rest of the army will sail up from behind and flank them. The plan went as well as one would expect. Frirek was in the middle of the fighting, although after the barrage from the archers there were not many men to fight. He cut through them one after the other, except one, maybe he had seen his brother or father or friend die, or maybe he was simply taken in by the battle, either way, he gave Frirek one hell of a fight. He wielded a two handed axe and managed to catch Frirek off guard and knock him backwards after he barely blocked the axe. The man continued to smash against Frirek’s shield again, again and again until it was finally knocked out of Frirek’s hands. In that moment Frirek thought of his wife and his unborn child. Then when the axe wielder tried to hit him again he caught the axe by the shaft and threw it away. He then gripped his blade with both his hands and proceeded to bash his opponent’s helmet in until his sword broke. He looked at the man whom he had just killed; helmet smashed into his head and blood flowing down his lifeless face, he then looked at all the other men who had died in the battle, their wounds from arrows, axes and swords, most of them used to be my men, Frirek thought, and it sickened him. Skuli and his archers walked up to Frirek’s men, eager to take part in the looting. Skuli walked up to Frirek “Your sword is broken.” “It is not mine, it was my fathers.” “But you inherited it.” “I did, but either way it’s worthless now.” He threw the broken sword to the ground. Skuli looked at his men and their looting; he saw the lust in their eyes when they retrieved the riches from the enemy ships, “I have an idea.” said Skuli.

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Meanwhile, in the hold of Jelling.

Asta walked into the room covered in sweat. She sat down with a heavy sigh and drank deeply from the mug of water which Glod had barely touched, “If I didn’t know better I would have thought you were the one who had just brought forth a child.” Asta responded by taking another large gulp of water, Glod waited for her to finish before she asked another question, “How did it go?” “It went well; she said that out of all her births this was her easiest. She has decided to call the child Hemming.”

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“Do you think Frirek will like the name?” “I don’t think Boleslava will give him a choice. Anyway, what are you doing?” “Thinking, look at this.” Glod handed Asta a letter, as Glod looked at her she could see Asta’s fury rise, “First he steals from his brother’s realm and now he is expecting his help!?”

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“He must be desperate if he is asking Frirek for help.” Glod said, “And since we both know Frirek’s answer I see no reason to discuss it. What we should discuss is who this Oddr of Oppland is.” “I assume you have already figured this out.” “He is the Vassal and cousin of Haraldr Fairhair, and Haraldr is the man whose kingdom was conquered by Frirek’s father.” “Who is also my father,” she said proudly, “what do you make of this situation?” “Either Oddr is trying to gain power against Haraldr, or they are both colluding.” but Glod thought of more than she was letting on, but for now it would be best if she kept her thoughts for herself. There was a larger connection here, she could feel it, and it made her reconsider the deaths of Hjalmar and Frodi on that cold and rainy day.

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Your periodic posting creates an atmosphere of anticipation just as much as your AAR posts! :p

your family name, Yngling, I wonder if the American brewery, Yuengling (named after the family) is of relations! :rofl:
 
Atmosphere of anticipation... yeah... that's the reason...

Ohh, Yngling is the family name of Haraldr, the man scheming against Frirek, perhaps i did not make that clear.
 
Atmosphere of anticipation... yeah... that's the reason...

Ohh, Yngling is the family name of Haraldr, the man scheming against Frirek, perhaps i did not make that clear.

Matters not. When I saw the name, the brewery just popped into my mind. Tells you where my mind is... :p
 
Chapter Six: Rulership

Skuli’s plan was to wait. Frirek had still only slightly more than half of what his enemies had in numbers, and so the only thing there was to do was wait until he had sufficient manpower. The only issue here was that part of the army consisted of men and drots from the angle lands that were now being sieged, and Frirek was running the risk of them joining the rebels’ cause because of his lack of action. Frirek allowed them to take their ships and men to go raiding against the Germans and Franks on the condition that they returned when it was time to fight the war. Meanwhile, Skuli would continue to hire soldiers to fill the Hird and train levies for the Fyrd.

This gave Frirek the opportunity to rule his Kingdom. The first issue that was brought to his attention was a suspicious man; he was found covered in blood outside his family’s house by a hunting band of three. While two of the hunters held the man firmly to the ground, though he made no attempt to resist, the other one looked to see what was inside the house; he came out sick and threw up, the bloody man started to cry. The case was brought before Frirek in Jelling, with Boleslava by his side. The hunters told Frirek and the court what had happened, “Did he seem to be in a hurry?” Frirek asked, “No,” answered the oldest hunter of the group, “but he did not seem to notice us until we were right beside him.” “Did you find a weapon?” “No, but he may have had time to hide the weapon; the blood was not fresh and the bodies reeked like old meat.” “Did he try to resist when you caught him?” “No, but we were armed with weapons and he was not.” “You seem convinced of his guilt.” The hunter looked and the man he had caught with disdain, “We found him covered in blood, and after asking around we also found out that he had been having problems running the farm since his wife had given him a new child; they said that she was too weakened by the birth to work, and that had forced him to work at another local farm.” “Is this man here?” asked Frirek. A man stepped forward, though not without reluctance. “Is what the hunter says true?” “Well… yes,” said the farmer, “but I don’t think that he killed her because of it. You must understand he was a good man; the only thing he talked about while working was his wife and children.” Frirek thought over everything that had been said, he then turned to the man who stood accused, “You have remained silent despite everything that has been said, what say you?” The man looked up at Frirek through empty eyes, “I have nothing to say.” His gaze returned to the ground. This was when Boleslava stood up and walked down to the man and put her hand on his shoulder and asked him gently, “Please, you must tell us what happened.” He looked up at her and nodded; he had returned home late at night and saw that his family had been slaughtered, his son had died in the doorway with a bloody axe in hand and stab wounds, his wife and younger child were cut open beyond recognition. Their blood had been used to write strange messages on the walls. The man burst into a wail of tears. “I deem you innocent of the crimes committed, and will send out an investigation to find the true perpetrator.” said Frirek, but the man did not seem to notice.

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Later that week another case would be brought before Frirek. This time it was at the behest of Grimr of Ribe, a godi that was convinced that a young woman was using jætte magic to fight Frirek and the Æsir that supported him. “She is also responsible for the deaths of that poor family,” Grimr added, “who else could have written those terrible tomes on the walls? It was only thanks to your Æsir given wisdom that you could see through the lies and allow the Father to go free, but that is not enough, the Æsir also demand that this this jætte worshipper before you be punished for her sins, then they will surely see that you are a just king and bring peace to the Kingdom.” The court burst out in condemnation of the woman and love of the king, though he himself was not completely convinced, “What is your opinion?” he asked Asta, who was in attendance, “Grimr is a wise man whose age and wisdom is undeniable,” she said, “you should punish the Girl.” “Your good sister is too kind my king,” Grimr said, “I am but a humble servant; a servant of you, and of the Æsir.” Frirek gave a guilty verdict and ordered that she should be burned for her crimes.

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There were many attending the execution, Frirek had been forced to double the guard because of this, so that there were now fifty men keeping order. The crowds cheered as Grimr spoke of the foul things that the crying woman had committed and they cheered when she was brought to the stake, “This is wrong.” Frirek’s oldest son Grimr said, “No,” Frirek answered, “this is a just punishment for her crimes.” “There was no evidence.” “There was the testimony of the Godi.” “One man’s word was not enough before.” “He was a hunter, not a godi.” “So you see a man’s goodness when you look at his stupid hat?” Frirek’s face turned red and he slapped his son. It hurt more than he had intended and several of Grimr’s baby teeth were knocked out. The blood from the child’s mouth covered his face and his Father’s hand, “I’m telling Skuli about this!” Grimr screamed as he ran away crying.

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The audience pretended not to notice. Frirek told Godi Grimr to start the execution. “In the name of our King Friek Jute I, Godi Grimr, condemn you to die. This will inspire Forseti to speak with Odin of the greatness of Ki—“ the speech was interrupted by a throwing axe cleaving the woman’s head in half. The guards stationed reacted quickly and were about to kill the man who had thrown the axe, then they noticed that it was the man who usually gave them orders. Frirek was furious, “Skuli!” he shouted, “what is the meaning of this?” Skuli answered calmly, “I knew that you could not be convinced of her innocence, so I gave her the mercy she deserved.” “Traitor!” Godi Grimr shouted, “Seize him now ye pious folk!” The masses moved to seize Skuli while sending shouts and curses at him, “Guards, keep the order!” Skuli shouted, and the soldiers drew their weapons to threaten the people into order. Frirek was annoyed that his command was being taken from him, “Nobody do anything!” he shouted, and now everybody was confused. Moments passed and nothing happened though everybody was ready to fight at the drop of a hat, then Skuli spoke up, “I will have no bloodshed; arrest me and take me to Jelling then we will see how much of a just man you are.” Frirek nodded to the guards and they did as they were told. Godi Grimr was insistent that the burning continue as planned. As the woman’s corpse burned up smoke of black and red rose from her body, Grimr said this was a sign of her wickedness.

An hour later at Jelling:
Frirek had worked himself up on the way home and he was ready to strike Suli down where he stood. But there was another man with him, “Nils of Dorset, what are you doing here? I thought you were raiding the Franks with the other drots of the Angle lands.” Frirek said confused, “I was, but I came back because I had to stop you. According to Skuli I am too late.” “What do you mean stop me?” “You have truly been made the fool of; you decided to execute an innocent woman based on the word of the guilty man; for it was Grimr who killed the peasant’s family earlier that week.” “You dare accuse one of the Kingdoms greatest Godis?!” “Godi? you make me laugh. Grimr is a godless man who only worships dark and forbidden powers for his own perverse pleasures, and for this I demand that you make this public knowledge and arrest him.” Nils went onto produce unquestionable evidence, but the matter was complicated by the war and both Skuli and Frirek agreed that if this should slip out that they would have to fight on two fronts, “Very well,” said Nils, “you wish for the fighting to end then I will end it. A week from now the Angle drots, whom you asked me to lead, will stop raiding and fight. If you have your men raised then we will join you, but if you do not then we will join the Rebels. Our lands are at stake, and the War must end.” And with that he left.

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Frirek went up to his room that day and did not leave. Skuli knocked on his door and asked if he should raise the men but no answer came. After three days Skuli decided to raise the troops anyway. Starkadr tried to give him news of taxes but no answer came. Asta tried to apologize but no answer came. Boleslava refused to talk to him after he hit his eldest Son. Skuli lost patience on the fifth day and bashed the door open, Frirek was surprisingly unaffected, “Hello Skuli,” he said in a tired manner, “sorry about the smell.” The food that the serving girls had brought was rotting and filled with flies in a corner of the room, completely untouched, “It came from the Franks.” Frirek said, “The food?” Skuli asked, “What you are called; bastard, Father learned the word while raiding the Franks, he was mad that your mother died birthing you. He should not have done it. The Thing should have chosen you, and I should have stayed with the Greeks” Skuli had already known about his past but he had never seen this side of the otherwise prideful Frirek, he seemed defeated in a way that ran deeper than any of his physical wounds.

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He knew that there was only one thing which could inspire him, “I talked to Hemming today, he asked how children are made. I told him that his Father will tell him and he trusted me. He trusts you brother, you have a responsibility to your children and to your people. You have to lead them.” Frirek sighed, “I will speak to my son, after that we leave, how many men have you gathered?” “Fourteen hundred once Nils joins us.” “It will do. We sail today.”

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