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Piety of the North Star

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Hooray for huscarls! You painted a scene that I was sure the Danes would lose. The toke commander isn't up against a petty pagan general there, and things looked bad for the superheroes for awhile. Normally, I don't cheer when the player wins, but I have to cheer for huscarls because it's one of my favorite words to say. Huscarls.
 
I didn't acquire the Ducal title, unfortunately, just Count of Rostock and Mecklemburg. I had thought about sailing over to Rügen to try and finish the job, but King Svend's army was on the scene and starting to help me with sieging Rostock in-game and I figured it would only be a matter of time before CK's mind-boggling AI caused the King to accept a peace treaty for 3 gold, thus forcing me to accept peace and losing all of my hard work at taking those two provinces.

I actually wasn't all that confident I'd win when I saw them go to peace with such a large army left. I knew I had to make a fight of it though, and I gambled (correctly) that their morale would be low from fighting the Germans. It's probably the first time I had such a stunning success in Crusader Kings, where I'm normally plagued by a huge army led by Alexander the Great's successor sent running by an army half their size led by Dan Quayle's predecessor.
 
A nice victory in battle, and an even nicer peace, preventing your king to steal away the spoils of your victory (hate when they do that!).

The battle scene was described vividly, you conveyed a good sense of what was going on and made me think for quite some time that the Danes were going loose. Nicely written battle.

I have not yet warmed to Skjalm, but I do like characters like Gro better, and of course also Asbjørn, who seems like a resourceful fellow and a true Viking. Go Asbjørn!
 
Some update on this:

I've been struck by a fit of irritation at the state of this AAR. Not necessarily because I think the writing itself is bad (though I didn't actually go through a drafting process, so it could be much better). What's bothering me is that as I increase my knowledge of the setting with every installment, I strike upon more and more and more historical inaccuracies that are bothering me.

While I'm certainly not abandoning this, I may go back and adjust former chapters. I'm likely going to mod my CK visually, until it suits my tastes better. I'm also going to go back and edit my current installments. The story will be identical, however, expect terminology to change a bit. I AM aiming for historical accuracy wherever I can, and it's been stretched noticably in some parts of this AAR.

I'll see what I can do about getting a proper update soon, though.
 
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I will consider it. Maybe I'll even just post revised versions of them here. The main thing I'm bothered by is the complete inaccuracy in my portrayal of the Danish ruling society, and I'd like to go for a much more accurate approach, if I can. I'm aiming for high quality alternate history here, and I feel I've fallen short of the mark.
 
phargle said:
Saithis, you might find value in not fixing prior updates - leave them as legacy updates. In the future, when you read through, you'll be able to enjoy your progress as a writer even more, perhaps.
Click to expand...

Agreed. Saithis, I look back at some of the stuff I've written and it gives me laughs, and shows progress on how much of a better writer I've become. So, don't edit too much, or delete too much, you'll regret it later, I know that from expierence...
 
This is going to be a descriptive piece more to set the scene and keep people reading while I finish up the next storyline installment. It will be used to give me a sort of mental 'set state' for things, as a firm guideline for working in the future, as well as to give people a better idea of what's going on to begin with. I'll try and do some of these at least once a century (for I do plan to take it to the 15th century and probably beyond), and I do hope you enjoy them.

As for the edits I spoke of...I'm going to keep them very minimal and solely for continuity, as I intend to change some character names slightly (using the danish naming tradition instead of the currently used swedish one), and I will change slight terminology, as I intend to use the danish terms for things such as duke and count. As I've said before, the storyline will not change.

This is far from my first piece of writing, and I don't just store writing on here. All of my pieces are written and saved in word documents and backed up before I do anything with them, so I'm not about to lose what I've written before just because I want to edit a few things. Not much will change, you won't even have to go back and read, methinks. ;)

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Chapter 06 - Denmark by the Late 11th Century​

Once the premier scandinavian state, Denmark had seen a relative state of decline over the middle part of the 11th century. Losing England and Norway had severely weakened the Danish King’s power, and the united power of France and the Holy Roman Empire prevents any ambition for southern expansion by the vikings. However, this does not mean that the Danes are without hope, or that they cannot forge a mighty empire as Canute the Great once did. However, in the face of the ever-increasing spread of Christianity, the future of Denmark did not lie on the high seas of the Atlantic, but upon the relatively crowded shores of the Baltic.

Situated in a dominant position where the ocean meets the sea, the Danes are able to control all traffic moving through if they so wish, and their longships give them the capability to strike anywhere in the Baltic with ease. With increasing pressure from the church to deal with the Pagans and heathen Muslims by any means necessary, the opportunity for the Danes may have come. A new Empire could be forged in the Baltic, over the bodies of every Pagan along the way.

The two most powerful clans of the Danish were the Knýtling and Hvide clans. King Svend is the Chieftan of the Knýtling Clan and thus the most powerful man in all of the Danish territories, and his sons have taken over positions of power across most of Denmark. These sons often sought to undermine the other’s power and legitimacy, attempting to build their own prestige and power such that they might be elected the new King of Denmark upon their father’s death.

The Hvide clan was smaller, but steeped more in the ancestry of the land. Hvide folktales say that they once held great rivalry with the clan of Skåne, for while they were the white protectors of Odin, Skåne were the black protectors of Thor. This bitter feud may be historical, it may not, none live who remember it, and the existence of a Skåne clan within Denmark’s borders is quite firmly disproved. The Hvides also try to put this pagan past behind, for they were one of the first to convert to the Catholic church, and have dedicate themselves wholeheartedly to the Christian way.

Society in Denmark:

Denmark, like all of Europe, was certainly marked by class systems, but amongst all of the various realms of Europe, the scandinavian states could make a claim to a ‘real’ democracy as such, though it was still plagued by bias and corruption. This democratic process comes from the tings, assemblies at various levels of government. The tings elect new kings and chieftans, make important economic and political decisions, and even serve as a court system by which peers may be tried for their crimes.

Presided over by a law speaker and the chief or king in question, the tings became an important part of Danish culture. In theory, every man had one vote in a ting, and the tings were arranged in hierarchies in which every ting would vote to send representation to the next highest ting, all the way up to the top where the King presided. In theory this also meant that the King had only one vote at a ting, just like anyone else. In practice, however, the power and wealth of the nobles and successful merchants meant that the elite still held sway over most major decisions, and it would take extreme opposition for the King’s will to be defeated by a ting.

The four major tings of Denmark at this time were Sjælland (constituting the island provinces), Skåneland (territory of the Scanian region), Jutland (from Schleshwig north to the Jutlandic Isles) and Vendland (the conquered territories surrounding Mikilenburg and Rostock).

One chief from each region would preside over the ting of each region – Chief Skjalm of Hvide presided over Sjælland; Prince Knud of Knýtling presided over Skåneland; Prince Harald of Knýtling presided over Jutland; Bishop Auden of Hvide presided over Vendland. All of these would be present when the Danish ting was called for whatever reason, along with other representatives from their region.

Thing.gif

"A more recent depiction of the danish ting of 1070."​

The newly conquered Wendish tribes did not fully understand the system instituted by the Danes in all its intricacy, but they had begun to accept it, and it did not take long for the first generation’s tings in Vendland to see fruition. The Danish were remarkably lenient to their new subjects, and much to the chagrin of the Catholic Church, the pagans were mostly allowed to observe their practice, albeit under great pressure from the Danes to convert. Auden, brother to Skjalm, had even surrendered his position of Bishop of Roskilde in order to travel to Rostock and organize the efforts of missionaries to Vendland. This conflict between Slavic Paganism and Catholicism would become a defining feature of Vendland’s society for most of the generation after their absorption.

While the King was the most powerful figure in Danish politics - able at times to act virtually unopposed - he was not alone in governing the Danish Kingdom. The highest of the other noble titles included the Hertugs (Dukes) and Greves (Counts), though the former were very rare, and by 1070 AD only two existed (Slesvig and Sjælland). There were also the Barons and Jarls, wealthy landowners and the more ‘general’ nobility, who unlike their higher kin did not govern huge swathes of land in their own right.

However, while the nobility of Denmark held the majority of power over economic and military decisions, the common folk were never without their rights. The tings provided a voice by which the Danish could make themselves heard, and land ownership amongst the peasants was far from the exception, and a great number could claim land for themselves. By the late 11th century, some concepts of feudalism were beginning to leak into Denmark, but the nobles were less of ruling lords and more of administrators over autonomous peoples, for good or for ill.

The Danish Military:

The Danish military was part professional and part levy, but each was a fierce warrior in their own right. The Danish warrior tradition goes back through the Viking Age, and most Danes were proud of it. However, by the late 11th century, the Danish military was less of an organized army and more of a haphazard force of bloodthirsty individuals arranged into units. This first started to change in Sjælland and Vendland, where Asbjørn of the Sprakkaleg Clan began to institute significant changes in the military organization, with Skjalm’s approval.

The danish regiments were divided up into smaller groups, each led by a hersir, or a local military commander who has pledged allegiance to his lord. While the danes performed with admirable capability against other foot soldiers, and few if any could challenge them, it was mounted warriors who were usually responsible for Danish defeats. It was not until the late 11th century with the rise of military reorganization under Skjalm of Hvide that the Danes began to truly overcome this, employing better spear formations and better cavalry of their own.

The Huskarls
Danish-Huskarls-Myth.gif

"A somewhat romanticized caricature of the huskarl - they were nonetheless very skilled and strong warriors."​

The core of the Danish army in the early medieval period; huskarls were well-armed, well-trained and wealthy professional forces, serving as guards to the noble families as well as serving as the standing army for Scandinavian states during this time. Able to afford the finest mail armour, as well as high-quality shields bound in leather and a large personal armoury. A typical huskarl could march to war with a variety of weapons ranging from the spear to the sword and the favoured ‘bearded axe’ of the Danes.

Through most of the 11th century, the huskarls were the core force of the Scandinavian armies, supplemented only by loose numbers of levied peasants. These professional warriors were adept at all arts of combat, and some of the most feared heavy infantrymen of their day. They were well-respected and known across much of Europe, and varangian mercenaries armed in the huskarl fashion became some of the most prestigious men in service of Byzantium, where they became well-known as the personal bodyguards of the Emperor of Romania himself.

Devotedly loyal and fiercely brave, the huskarls are the finest fighting men Denmark can field, last to break and last to fall. They form the personal guards of the jarls and other nobility, and equipped with whatever weapons are best suited for the task at hand, and able to use them with a proficiency only matched by the best knightly orders of the West. Most huskarls owned a horse, but they were generally used to ride to war upon and then dismount, as opposed to the Norman approach of leading them to war and mounting for battle.

The Leidang
Danish-Spears.gif

"An example of a wealthier leidang (or perhaps one funded by a lord), this man can actually afford a sword in place of his axe."​

Like most states of the time, Denmark used levied soldiers to supplement its numbers. Unlike most states, however, the scandinavian kings sought to use the leidang, an old system from the Viking age, whereby the levies would contribute ships and ensure the viking lands had a strong navy and enough able bodies to launch raids during the summer months, when they were not needed upon the farm.

The leidang were still used by 1070, though as time passed they gradually began to share more characteristics with the fyrds of Saxon England. Expected to provide their own arms and often their own provisions, the leidang were often wrapped up in their own viking history, and fought as much for their own glory as for the demands of the King. Few could afford a good weapon, fewer still good armour. Most fought with shield and axe, often the wood axe from their farm and little if any armour.

Compared to other levied troops, the leidang were excellent close-quarters combatants, showing little regard for their foes and able to congregate in great numbers. However, they were undisciplined and most were untrained, making them a difficult force to adequately control on the battlefield. As light infantry and a raiding force, the leidang were superb, but in a pitched battle, it was generally up to the huskarls to finish the job.

Some regiments of the leidang would be gifted spears or other extra equipment by their lords to serve as a defensive force capable of stopping cavalry and holding the lines against charging enemies. Some would also bring their horses, and serve as light skirmishing cavalry, though they were usually far fewer in number, as horses were generally a privilege of the wealthy.

The Longship Navy
Danish-Longship.gif

"The longships were reliable and flexible vessels which gave the scandinavian clans a great deal of flexibility."​

The true power of the Danish did not necessarily come from their fierce approach on land, nor their tactical abilities, but from their domination of the seas. Even through the 11th century, the Longship was the premier ship of the scandinavian navies, and it was a ship that bore many across the Atlantic and as far as Iceland and the fabled Vinland (though few at the time believed stories of the mythical ‘Vinland’ and refuted it as nonsense.)

The smaller type of longships, or snekkja, was a very light craft favoured by the Danish raiding forces. The average vessel was merely 17 metres long and 2.5 metres wide, and it would carry 24 oarsmen, a cox, and a small contingent of passengers. It was no war vessel, merely a tool by which the vikings to plunder and raid other settlements. Because they were so light, it was an easily beached ship and required no port to use, though they often did so anyway, and it was one of the most common types of longship.

The larger and heavier type, what are now called Roskilde ships, were hefty ships measuring anywhere from 30-38 metres in length. With a large crew of around 80 and a larger carrying capacity, it would have made an excellent warship or large trading vessel, depending. They were much rarer and more expensive than the snekkja, but were a valuable part of the navy at the time. Their commanding presence in the baltic was vital to Danish naval supremacy.
 
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I apologize ahead of time for cheesy jokes, but I couldn't help but use them with the use of a certain character being basically a necessity...

The_Guiscard: I failed to reply to this last time, my apologies! Thank you, though the battle was a little impersonal, I wanted to give a wider view of what was going on. I'll experiment with other points of view in the future, I'm sure. And by the by, I'm not a huge fan of Skjalm either, I too prefer Gro and Asbjørn, and certain other characters I have yet to introduce...

Enewald: Knud Knýtling is a genius. One should always keep an eye out for him. Of course, rambling incompetence could always stop them, you never know. ;)

democratickid: Thanks, I'm going to need it!

Christian V: I can safely say that's the best compliment and nicest comment I've received so far. That means a lot to me, so thank you so much! (And as you request, I shall narrate the deeds of Skjalm like a skald of old...well, okay, probably not, but hey.)

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Chapter 07 – The Ting of Denmark

January 10th, 1070​

It was cold in Denmark – very cold, such that the bitter cold ice was encrusted upon every root of tree, every branch, every river and stream. Powdered white snow had coated all, and all Danes waited eagerly to hear of the news. An assembly had been called – early, in fact, for they were seasonally inclined to the late spring and early summer, when men could easily be spared to represent the local tings and when travel was not so impaired by winter storms. Nonetheless, the call to assembly had been made, and all that could make the journey found themselves at the gates of Odense.

One of the largest cities in Denmark along with Århus and Roskilde, Odense had become the new capital of a seemingly eccentric King Svend, who had been shifting his home from place to place for some time. Situated in the County of Fyn and ruled as part of the King’s personal demesne, it was a place of some import and its navies helped Sjælland retain dominance of the Skagerrak.

The most notable of these were the representatives of the four regions of Denmark, as well as King Svend and the most honourable Jens of Hamburg, the recently appointed Archbishop of Lund and thusly primate of all Denmark. The last, and possibly most important, was Baron Argus Magnussen Reventlow, the chosen law-speaker for the occasion, who would preside over the ting as a neutral arbiter.

The tradition of outdoor assembly was now one that some were regretting, huddled in their winter furs and shifting from foot to foot to keep the blood flowing. Copious amounts of mead were passed about, enabling drinking to ensue; it warmed the hearts of men who had journeyed long and far. Skjalm was no different, drinking and feasting upon the offers granted. Upon the powdery snow, dozens of bodies met, laughed, drank and ate heartily. This ting was as much a happy celebration as it was a serious meeting of grave concern.

Skjalm smiled, but he did not laugh, nor did he cheer or even speak. The food was enjoyable, but a ting would not have been called early unless there was something of serious concern that Svend wished to consult all of the hundreds (the subdivisions of counties) about. Skjalm feared that there was something dangerous afoot, and had some concern it was about his recent seizure of the Vendland territories, which had made him amongst the most powerful of men in Denmark.

He noticed Auden laughing and engaging in common pleasures with the rest, and saw that Gro had accompanied him as well, presumably so that she might visit her brothers and sisters, and her father. She was a busy woman, possibly the most powerful in Denmark, but he was not certain what her place in this web was yet. She was an enigma to him; he simply could not understand her ways.

The hours passed until the sun was at its peak, and finally, the assembly to determine the future of the people of Denmark began. The customary traditions were followed, and all gave their respect of the utmost sincerity. Skjalm secretly held some contempt for these rites – they were, in his mind, an affront to God, relics of an old pagan system which should be abolished in favour of a more Christian court. He was appalled that his brother Auden indulged in them so willingly, for was Auden not a pious man as well?

Finally, Svend rose to speak, arms behind his back, dark eyes scanning the crowd. He was growing old and haggard, his beard was thinning and his hair greying. Though he stood strong, it was clear from his expression that the icy cold was beginning to bite at his old bones, and that the years of Svend Estridsen of Knýtling, King of the Danes, were slowly and surely running out.

“My people, I have assembled you here for the gravest of reasons. We are presented with an opportunity beyond any we have been granted before. This is the future of Denmark we have assembled to determine, and the future of Europe as we know it. You all know how the lands of England were taken by the Saxons! You have surely heard how the Normans have since forged the largest and most powerful kingdom in the history of those isles which were ours by right!”

There was a roar amongst the assembled group, some showing contempt for the loss, most cheering the affirmation of Danish right to the East Anglian territories.

“I have given refuge in my court to the last children of Harold Godwineson of the House of Wessex, the ruling Saxon dynasty, for they were driven out by the Normans and may have been put to the sword otherwise. But now the war for control of the English throne is not over! News has reached our shores of a rebellion led by the Saxon Duke of Northumberland. They say that the King of England himself has been put to siege, and that London is in Saxon hands. This is our chance, as Danes, to reclaim East Anglia and help the Saxons.”

EnglishCivilWar.gif

”The Saxon Uprising of 1070 – King William de Normandie is faced with a dire situation.”​

Auden shook his head. “The Saxons cannot win on their own, not with the limited resources of Northumbria alone. Even if the Mercian counties join against him, the armies of the Normans are well-trained and experienced men. They may have some luck now, but even God will not be able to save them.”

The Archbishop of Lund snorted with indignant irritation. “God can save anyone, child, you should know that. If it is in his plan, then the throne of England may be filled by a Saxon once more, however…however, we must not forget that William sailed to England under the Papal banner, not under any false pretenses of personal gain! His was a holy battle which was ordained and approved by God.”

There was some murmur of discontent amongst the scattered people, and Skjalm leaned forward in his seat, speaking quite plainly. “Let us not mince words. The Saxons cannot win on their own, but with Danish assistance, they might succeed, no?”

Svend grinned and clapped his hands once. “Precisely! I propose that this summer, we raise the leidang and any mercenaries we can find, as well as every available huskarl and set sail for the East Anglian coast. We could take advantage of this situation by seizing all of the lands that rightfully belong to our Kingdom. What say you?”

There was a great murmur over the hall, and all were struck by the words of King Svend. More glory for Denmark, a fading kingdom which had grown weak? How could they refuse this? Soon this murmur grew into arguing, as others proposed that they could not possibly contend with the will of the Normans as long as they held Papal approval. Soon argument turned to wild brawl, and noble struck noble with fist and boot, and there was a great din of noise that filled the whole region.

“SILENCE!!!” screamed Argus, the lawspeaker.

The fight stopped instantly, and many ashamed nobles, some nursing bruised limbs, others blackened eyes, returned to their seats. There were none who would challenge the will of the lawspeaker during a ting, except perhaps Svend, and he merely nursed his brow with a frustrated hand.

“Let us think carefully of our options here, my friends!” Another voice broke the sudden quiet. “For are we not the wise rulers of Denmark? Let us think!”

Skjalm narrowed his eyes – it was Harald Svendson, Prince of Denmark and the Hertug of Slesvig. A proud and arrogant man, he gave Skjalm some cause for concern. Despite his nature, he was extremely popular amongst the people of Jutland, and with the nobility in general. His only luck was that his brothers, the respective Greves of Jylland, Skåne and Halland, were no fans of their brother, and saw him more as a rival than as a foe.

Harald-Knytling-Portrait.gif

”A modern depiction of Harald Svendson of the Knýtling Clan.”​

Skjalm sighed. “What is your opinion then, Harald, if you are such a font of wisdom for us to turn to?”

The Danish prince frowned, turning a slanted eye towards Skjalm. “I believe this is a chance for the Danes to earn glory once more, for us to unite as brothers in arms and to bring England once more under Danish control. We can seize East Anglia and install the Godwineson boy on the throne as our loyal servant. We can then ride upon that glory and bring Norway back into our fold, and we will once again be the most powerful of the viking kingdoms!”

Skjalm frowned and gathered himself up out of his seat. “Do you think it will be that simple, your highness? We are not the only powers in the world looking for opportunities to expand. The Swedes are growing in power, and the Wendish tribes have not forgotten the stinging defeat dealt to the Obotrite confederacy. The Pomeranians and Prussians are said to have formed an alliance, and the various Lithuanian tribes may unite against us if we let our guards down.”

Harald snarled and turned fully towards his rival. “If I wanted the opinion of you or your half-witted clan of misfits, I would have asked it, Tokesen. You are nothing to me, I am twice the man you will ever be in heart, though I yet be half the weight! If I wanted advice on making myself look like swine, maybe I would have asked you, but this is a military matter, leave it to the adults.”

The normally calm Chief of Sjælland lost his temper. Before anyone could stop him, Harald was upon the frozen ground, blood trickling from his nose, Skjalm’s fist clenched in anger.

“Prince Harald, you are a disgrace to your clan! Your brothers should be ashamed to know you!” Skjalm yelled, his eyes burning with rage.

Before he could follow through, strong arms seized him, and he heard Auden’s voice pull him back even as Prince Knud’s arms restrained him. He saw too that Olaf and one of the huskarls present had taken hold of a furious Harald, who was struggling to get at him.

“How dare you strike a prince! How dare you!” Harald seethed, struggling against his captors.

Skjalm struggled for a moment, then stopped, meeting Harald’s eyes. “Harald, you have made yourself my enemy this day. I hope I’m there the day you die. I want to see the devil come for your foul soul with my own two eyes!”

There was another tumult as Harald broke free and leapt at Skjalm, causing another flurry of fists before the two were pulled apart again, with hair and clothing disheveled. Finally they were forced apart, and the lawspeaker, with some struggle, managed to restore another peace. There was no noise for perhaps a minute, while everyone sat in awkward silence, not sure what to say, until finally King Svend himself rose to speak.

“Skjalm, while I should see you punished for striking my son, I believe everyone present understands that Harald wronged you and your clan with his words. This was an action which under law permits greater retaliation, conqueror of Vendland, though I severely discourage such action when Denmark needs the armies of Sjælland and Vendland the most. What Harald delivered was no less than a foul insult, and I am ashamed that my own blood would do so. Harald, retire to your quarters. I do not wish to see you again this day, for your behaviour is unbefitting of my son. Olaf will represent Jutland. As for the rest of you, I propose an hour’s rest to deliberate upon what has been said here. This is not an action which should be taken lightly, and I will seek the ting’s vote on whether or not we go to war.”

Slesvig-Claim.gif

”Skjalm’s legal right to go to war with Prince Harald was confirmed by the King himself.”

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Skjalm sighed and wandered away from the meeting area, seeking solace in a goblet of wine. He sat alone near a frozen tree for some time. Gro had thrown longing glances his way, but he had ignored them in full knowledge that she would not seek him out while Auden was present. That was something he was glad for – the guilt of his infidelity had plagued him since that night, and though it had been so long, he could not forget it, nor could he lose the sensation he felt when he thought of her.

Indeed, it was not Gro, nor Auden, nor any of Sjælland or Vendland’s representatives who roused Skjalm from his melancholy stupor, but a more unfamiliar face. Knud Knýtling, Prince of Denmark and Greve of Halland. Skjalm was only loosely acquainted with the solemn, bearded face, but offered a weak smile in return to the man’s offered hand. Taking it, he pulled himself up with a groan, and chuckled.

“Ah, Knud, it’s been quite some time, hasn’t it? I’m happy to see you again.” Skjalm muttered past his drink.

Knud shook his head. “I’m surprised, I don’t remember you being so angry, though I understand how my brother could get under your skin. He's almost as frustrating as my father. How are you doing? I heard of your exploits in Vendland, and I was impressed.”

Skjalm shrugged. “For being a Hertug, I lack heirs, and this is not something that fills my heart with joy. Signe’s health has not been great either, so I had her remain in Søborg for this occasion. She is pregnant, and soon to deliver, so I need her in the best health possible, lest she and the child…”

Skjalm swallowed, and cast his eyes downward. Knud simply patted his shoulder and offered a little bit of a smile.

“At least you have love, Skjalm. That is a rare thing – you could have been cursed with that Thuringian Bovine my father married me to.” He winced. Clearly, the state of Knud Knýtling’s marriage was not a good one.

“You are not happy?” Skjalm asked with a puzzled face. “But surely marriage is the happiest thing that can happen to a man. You will produce heirs.”

Knud coughed and looked down at his drink. “Yes, and not all of them will be mine…if I ever find proof of her infidelity, I swear I will have her sent to a nunnery to live out her days away from me, bless the day that happens.”

The Chief of Sjælland frowned and patted Knud’s shoulder in response. “I am sorry, my friend, but let us not worry about such things now. We have war to think of, and war will not be a pleasant thing.”

Knud chuckled a little. “No, that’s true. You can’t send war to church.”

Skjalm raised an eyebrow. “To church?”

Knud nodded. “Oh yes, when I can, I send all of my problems to church.”

“Dare I ask why?” Skjalm cracked a smile.

Knud glanced, seeing Auden and Jens were far from sight, and leaned in close. “Because, Skjalm, I hate God…and myself…” He winked, and elbowed Skjalm, betraying the joking nature of the statement. “Now let’s go, the ting will be meeting again.”

Skjalm shook his head and smiled. “Knud Knýtling, you're a genius.”

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Olaf Knýtling rose and extended his thumb upwards in Roman tradition. “Aye, to war!” he shouted, and a cheer rolled through the assembly.

Then a silence overcame them. The sun was beginning to set, and after long hours of debate, it had finally come to this. The final vote. The hundreds had voted, and a tie had been reached. Half were supporters of going to war with England, the half were against it. It would be the determination of the final voter, who had not yet spoken his voice, that would decide whether the vikings sailed to Britannia once more.

Skjalm swallowed hard as all eyes turned to him.

The voice of the lawspeaker echoed through his ears with an ominous tone. “The representative of Sjælland has not made his voice heard, yet. Yours is the deciding vote, Skjalm of Hvide.”
 
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Echo...echo...echo...

Enewald: Thanks, though I don't usually take other writers' material, I did want to use Knud Knýtling in this story, and the joke was simply too good to let go without using.

And without further ado, I move it on.

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Chapter 08 – The Sun Sets Upon All Joy

January 19th, 1070​

“No.”

Gro blinked and raised an eyebrow. “And?” She inquired.

“And nothing.” Skjalm stated dryly, taking a bite of his bread. “That’s all I said, one word: no.”

Auden shook his head in exasperation. “I do not understand why, Skjalm. We could have won, and brought great glory to Denmark. England is powerful, but not so powerful that they could defeat both the Saxons and our own warriors. What is your reasoning behind this?”

Skjalm shrugged, as if it were unimportant. “Firstly, it would have upset God. Christians should not war against Christians, you know that as well as I do, Auden.”

The Bishop scoffed and took a large bite of his roast chicken, clearly uninterested in that rationale.

The Hvide Chieftan merely continued. “My second reason is that I do not believe we would achieve victory against the Normans. Asbjørn and I have been interrogating reports from the Battle of Hastings. We have discovered a rather interesting style of war used by the Normans, unlike both Saxon and Scandinavian military tactics. We think this may be part of the key to Norman success.”

Auden shook his head. “A mere excuse, surely. Danish steel and heart could have overcome them. We are the descendants of vikings. The failure of the huskarls at Hastings was because of the Saxons, not the strategy.”

Skjalm smiled and laughed heartily, taking a drink of his mead. “Auden, you are brave, but Asbjørn disagrees, and I trust him and his careful analysis first and foremost. He called the Norman tactic ‘Combined Arms’ and says it may be the future of European warfare. He also said that if Denmark wanted to move beyond its weak state, we should begin investing in this army composition immediately.”

His brother grumbled and picked at the carcass of the chicken with his knife, still dissatisfied. “Skjalm, I think we should have sought glory, and I am disappointed that you did not support us. How is Denmark ever to earn glory if we do not take opportunities to fight abroad?”

The Hertug chuckled and shifted in his seat. Skjalm had not lost weight since his appointment but he had lost flab. The stress of war and his own training for war had converted much of his rotund form into hardened muscle, and he had been forcing a training regimen upon himself, in order to gain fitness for what was to come. Skjalm, as much as he had dared, was preparing himself for war just as much as Sjælland continued to prepare for it. Mikilenburg and Rostock were just the beginnings. A new opportunity awaited them beyond the sea once more.

Skjalm-Portrait.gif

”Despite his advancing years, Skjalm had become remarkably fit and healthy.”​


“There are better ways for Sjælland to earn prosperity and power, and to prove its piety to the God’s servants. The Baltic will be the lands where we forge new power, starting with the Prussians.”

Auden’s jaw dropped a little, and he lowered his food to the platter. “Prussians? Skjalm, surely we should not be reaching into a trap so obvious. An incursion against any of the Prussian tribes is likely to provoke a response from the others. How do you expect Denmark alone to fight against the Pagans?”

Skjalm smirked. “I don’t. I expect to use our minds, to divide and conquer just as we did in Vendland. The Prussians will be no different, you will see.”

----- -=-=- ----- -=-=- -----

February 28th, 1070​

Skjalm’s return to Søborg castle was long overdue – he had not had time to return to his home after the war, spending most of his time in Rostock, organizing the affairs of his new demesne. After nine months away, he was finally home. A smile was wide upon his face, for here he would see his wife, Signe, and reunite with the attendants of his castle that he had so missed. The good life would return to him, and he could relax until such time as he was ready to make his next move.

Upon riding through the gates, he was confronted by the tall, broad figure of Asbjørn Sprakalegg. With a grin, he dismounted and moved towards the Lord High Constable of his army. “Asbjørn, at last! It is good to be home!”

Asbjørn merely returned a blank, solemn stare. He looked weary, as if he had gone for some time without sleep, for his eyes were ringed with dark circles. His normally proud shoulders sagged from visible exhaustion, and his face betrayed signs of recent tears shed. Skjalm’s smile faded.

“What’s wrong, Asbjørn?”

The tall man just shook his head. “It’s Signe…she’s dead.”

----- -=-=- ----- -=-=- -----​

The night had grown late, and little sound stirred as Gro met her contact. Dressed in dark browns and adept at use of shadows, she had hardly noticed him until he was right on top of her. She jumped as he appeared, and Connor growled, stepping forward next to her.

“Relax, if I wanted you dead, you would be.”

She recognized the gravelly voice, and waved her hand in a dismissive manner to the Scotsman. “Hans, at last…you did perfect. No one suspects a thing. What about Ingrid? Have you made preparations for her as well?”

The shadowy figure nodded. “It was all too easy, I’m afraid. In her crazed state, she believed my words to be the voice of God. By the morn, she will have ended her own life, leaving no trace of our involvement. Do you have my payment?”

Gro nodded and handed over a large purse. “As promised. You’ve done well. I will contact you again if I have need of you, but for now, try not to get yourself killed. You have such creative methods of ending people, I’d hate to see a profitable relationship end for nothing.”

Hans shrugged. “Of course, your Highness. With this fee, I could certainly retire, though I would fail to see the fun in that. If you need me, you know how to contact me.”

Hans-Assassin-Portrait.gif

”Hans, a hired blade and expert assassin Gro met during her time in Hamburg.”​

With that, the man melted into the shadows, leaving no trace of his presence save faint footprints in the snow, which the stormy weather quickly remedied. Boggled by his capacity for stealth, Gro shook her head and looked up at Connor with a smile. He smiled back a little, not really understanding the plan of his Mistress, but pleased to be of service anyway.

“Everything is falling into place, Connor. With that bitch Signe dead, Auden in Rostock and my sister soon to be out of the way, nobody will be able to stop me from turning Skjalm’s capabilities to my own advantage. Finally, we will bring Sjælland into the Knýtling fold at last, and Ernst will be the very foundation of my plan…what could go wrong?” She grinned.

----- -=-=- ----- -=-=- -----​

Skjalm knelt before the cross of Søborg Chapel, hands clasped together tightly and head bowed. The chaplain had fled his wrath; all had fled his wrath, for the ill news of his wife’s death had unleashed a fiery temper and a foul rage deep inside of him that none could tame. Though it had grown well past midnight, Skjalm remained in the chapel and knelt. He offered no words, no prayer, for some hours, lost in thought, until finally, he looked up at the holy icon.

“I do not know why you have tested me such, my lord. I do not know why you have taken my wife away from me. My only presumption is that sin I have committed is at fault, and that I shall be forced to seek confession and to repent. I am a simple man, I do not know what you wish of me, but please Lord, please. Give me the strength I need to overcome what has cursed me. I swear to you now, before this cross, upon this consecrated ground. I will continue to serve your will, and I will overcome this challenge before me, no matter the cost. I think I know what you wish of me. I think I know what I have to do. Rest assured, Holy Father, I will carry out my destiny, just as you intend for me. I will put your plan into action, and bring your word to a place which has so stubbornly refused you.”

Skjalm swallowed hard and drew his sword, planting it point-first into the wooden floor and tightly gripping the cross-like handle of the blade.

“With you as my witness, I swear I will redeem my sins and earn glory to pay for Signe’s death. I swear to put an end to the Pagans of Vendland and of the Baltic once and for all.”
 
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Saithis said:
“With you as my witness, I swear I will redeem my sins and earn glory to pay for Signe’s death. I swear to put an end to the Pagans of Vendland and of the Baltic once and for all.”
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Crusades against pagans? YEAH! That'll be fun! :D
 
Christian V said:
What an intriguing chapter! This is gettin GOOD.
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It's been good. Superb, excellent even. It's just been getting even better!:D

And I hope phargle sees Knud's little cameo! That made me laugh!
 
She’s done it again – yet another awe-inspiring update of immense transition of narrative, character and scenario.

‘Shame that Signe had been assassinated; I kind of liked her wholeheartedness towards Skjalm, and how Skjalm’s affection grew for her as the story advanced. Maybe they were never meant to subsist in tranquil, maybe it was what was best for them...

Alas, Gro had to be the instigator of this undignified–murder...pity; I didn’t quite see her planning on furthering this far with her egocentric desires - yet another sudden-event of astonishment.

Now Skjalm, with all the joy and bliss he brought with him to his home, on entering, no sooner it all shattered - his world transformed around him from the sudden shock of hindsight – he seemed no longer a man of nostalgias thought, but of audacious mindset. As he prayed to god, he made an uppishness vow. A vow that solemnly-swore: massacre, to purify his soul.’

Nevertheless, such wonderful writing you have, can’t wait for the next instalment, it’s getting really interesting.

( ~Lots of love from Kingy. ;) )
 
:D

Lovely, just lovely. The squabbling of the Danes is marvelous and the intrigue in the aftermath is . . . intriguing. King Svend comes across as a serious, interesting, capricious fellow, and I especially like the depiction of a multi-prince court, as it stands in contrast to the idea that a prince is a solitary figure. The Danes are smart to avoid entangling themselves in England, as the Saxons must fall eventually, but that is indeed a tempting war. And your Knud cameo went right up to the brink, went over the brink, and then came back very nicely. I will bear however many of your children you deem appropriate.

*clapping*
 
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