Chapter 29
The Right Opportunities
It has been a couple months since the death of Branislava and Ahma is holding a great festival over the summer in her memory. But before the festival itself begins, Ahma and those of his vassals that have already gathered at his fort decide to hold a bit of a spear throwing competition to pass the time. They would come to learn that combining spear throwing and ale however, was not a good idea when they heard an agonizing scream from down the range. Päiviö had been struck by a spear, thrown by an unknown contestant since no one had seen who had thrown it and no one admitted to having thrown it. The rest decided that they would throw one last round before calling it a day, lest someone else gets struck by a spear too. The winner of the little contest turned out to be Ahma's second son, Kettu, much to the surprise of everyone, as he wasn't really even considered to be the strongest of the men present.
As the festival began a couple days later, Ahma decided to join his fellow Followers in a hunt to look for offerings to the gods. Ahma's luck was mediocre this time, only catching couple of rabbits and a fox. His hunting luck had gotten worse over the years, as he had hunted wolves, bears, wolverines and moose easily when he was younger. But now, he couldn't find anything to track or even just notice by chance.
"Maybe you are just getting old" Sirtya, a fellow Hero, told Ahma.
"Nonsense, I'm still plenty young. I still plan to live a few decades for certain" he answered.
"I'm sure you will" Sirtya chuckled.
But Ahma had to admit that he was no youngster anymore, but he wasn't old either. He was merely 51 years old at this point. Sirtya was about 70 if he remembers right, and with one foot in the grave. And he himself is in much better shape than what Sirtya was in his age so surely he would live to be at least 80, maybe more.
On their way back to the fort from the hunt Ahma encountered an old crone who offers to determine what the spirits and skies have in store for Ahma in the future. Ahma decides to give her the payment of single squirrel skin to hear what she has to say. Her words of the future were about as what he expected.
"A period of good luck is just around the corner, and that you need only look for the right opportunities to change life for the better."
Ahma had never really believed that one could know for certain what the spirits have in store for one's future, let alone other's. And the crones vague words only confirmed this belief.
"You could attribute anything to those words" he thought to himself as he continued his walk back towards the fort.
Near the end of the festival there was a poetry contest and Ahma decided to be one of the judges. Standing there with his Iron Crown on his head, Ceremonial Axe on his lap and clad in a bearskin cape he was an imposing sight. And clearly seen from the stage of the contest, so as to see how the contestants fare under the pressure of performing under the eyes of their King. And sure enough, a couple of them buckled under the pressure but finished their poems nonetheless. But the most impressive was without a doubt Suoma, daughter of late High Chief Voitto of Karelia. And her poem was slightly unusual, to say the least. It described a lady lamenting how her husband was taking part in a competition between heroes past, and how he is accidentally wounded in the competition, but no one admitting their guilt of wounding him and leaving him a mangled cripple for the rest of his days. It was hinted in the story that the lady and her husband knew who it was but have not said anything yet, for it would only be their word against the hero's so they are waiting for the man to admit his guilt on his own.
And so, with her moving poem Suoma was chosen as the victor. And the people asked for more of her poems. She relented and told another one. This one however, was what really piqued Ahma's interest. In her poem she once again hinted to many current Chiefs and High Chiefs both in and outside of Finland and to the things they have done. Both great feats and secret, more clandestine actions. How she has managed to get all that knowledge, Ahma didn't know and couldn't even begin to guess, but he was definitely interested in her now.
Later that day Ahma has one his guards escort her to him to the side street where he was waiting, away from the hustle and bustle of the festival. And away from unwanted ears. When she arrived, she didn't seem surprised with suddenly being face to face with the King. More like she expected it.
"My King, it seems you wished to speak with me?" she asked as she kneeled.
"Stand up. As the daughter of a High Chief, and of my brother-in-law, you need not kneel" he said to her.
After she stood up, he continued.
"I don't know where you gained all that information or how, and quite frankly, I don't care. All I care about is that I'd like you to work for me."
Ahma stepped next to her and continued.
"Seeing as how much you already know it probably won't be a surprise to you that Branislava worked as a spymaster of sorts for me. As my 'hand in the shadows', if you will. And I haven't been able to find anyone to replace her in that position."
Ahma tried to hold back tears, but a couple still streaked down his cheeks, as her death was still so fresh in his mind. But he made sure it didn't show.
"So what say you Suoma? A job as the King's hand in the shadows and a position in my council?"
"I thought you'd never ask, dear uncle" was her answer.
Ahma couldn't help but begin to laugh as he walked back towards the hustle and bustle of the festival with the guard trailing him. But before he did, he quickly turned around and told her "I'll see you tomorrow in my study! Until then, enjoy the festival!"
During the last day of the festivities Ahma heard news from a merchant who had arrived in town recently. Apparently his son-in-law Chief Vechkas had finally declared war on High Chief Kezhevat of Mochkava to claim his birthright after the boy High Chief was weakened in a war against some Slavic adventurer, looking to claim some lands for himself. Ahma was surprised that there had been no call to arms from his son-in-law to the war, but considering just how barely the High Chief's army won, it seemed Vechkas thought he could take on the remainder of the army just fine by himself.
As autumn was coming around and Ahma was leaving for yet another great gathering a messenger arrived. He brought news that Chief Pyry of Satakunta, son of late Ihala 'the Moaner', had died of old age. So now his son, and Ahma's nephew, Urho has become the Chief. Ahma thanked the messenger and then went on his way. His sister Ilta had married Pyry such a long time ago, it seemed. To sort of mend the wounds that the bitter rivalry between Ahma and Ihala had caused. For the most part it had seemed to have worked. None of Ihala's sons held any animosity towards him, quite contrary, they hated their own father. "He was quite the unlikable man" Ahma later thought to himself.
Upon arrival to the Gathering Ahma notices a curious sight. A Bolghar man has joined their ranks. Ahma asks about the man from Rayda, the newest Hero of the Followers.
"Do you know who that Bolghar man is? When did he join?"
"Oh, him? That's Khagan Sevar. I oversaw his induction myself. Quite the promising man indeed."
"You did?"
"Yes, well, I was the closest of the Heroes to where he's from. His lands are just south of Perm. He and his clan recently broke away from the Pechenegs after their Khagan died. They have followed the same gods as us for a generation or two, but only now had an opportunity to leave behind the tengri Pecheneg Khagans."
"I see. Interesting, indeed. We'll see how he will fare among us."
"Oh, don't you worry. I'm expecting great things from him myself."
Rayda then broke out into his easily recognizable booming laughter, and everyone took it as a sign to begin the celebrations. Later the same day Ahma was talking with some other members who had concerns about their fellow Warrior, Feodosia. She hasn't been doing well in fights recently, mostly because she has been trying to fight those above her skill, and now she seems to be afraid of fighting anymore. Ahma then suggests that Suonjar, a fellow Warrior who should be of somewhat equal skill to Feodosia have a sparring match with her. It took some convincing and suggesting but finally the two of them were outside with their fists up. The fight was rather one sided despite the two supposedly being of equal skill and strength. Suonjar almost beat Feodosia to a pulp and she was afraid for her life. Needless to say, she didn't appreciate the effort of trying to get her to fighting spirits again.
Once the Gathering was over and Ahma was on his way back home he received two letters a few days before getting to Finland. Ahma thanks the man and takes the letters. First one seems to be from his chancellor, High Chief Onni of Savonia. Onni begins the letter by telling that his son-in-law Vechkas is now the High Chief of Mochkava and Meschera. He had indeed been successful in his war to reclaim the High Chiefdoms. This pleased Ahma greatly, as he would have another ally who just kept growing in strength. Then Onni writes about some less fortunate news. It seems Ahma's most experienced scribe has passed away. The man was one of the most skilled scribes in all of Finland, even being an apprentice to one of the teachers that Amalric originally taught to write and read so long ago. Ahma cursed his luck, but decided that this would not hinder his project. He would finish his book, even if he would have to travel to Miklagardr to find a scribe to replace the dead one.
Ahma then opened the second letter. It didn't have any sort of markings on it to distinguish as to who it was from, but as soon as Ahma opened it, he saw who it was from. It was from his new spymaster, Suoma. She began by apologizing that she hasn't been able to perform her duties to her fullest for a few days due to grief over the death of her husband, Päiviö. But she says that she had managed to find some dirt on one his Chiefs that could help him keep the said Chief in line, if he so wished. Ahma hoped that it wouldn't come to that but he decided to hold on to that information just in case for now.
The next winter also brought with it a letter, this time directly from his son-in-law, High Chief Vechkas of Moskva and Meschera. In it he explained how someone from the entourage of Hellä had belittled Vechkas' achievement of conquering the High Chiefdoms that were taken from his father. He called the person's actions "tasteless" and "unacceptable for a representative of an ally". Ahma wrote two letters that evening. One for his son-in-law, apologizing for the man's behavior and that he will take care of it. The second was addressed to the rude diplomat. He was to apologize for his behavior and words and to return to Finland immediately or he would not be considered a representative of the King anymore and thus would be at the mercy of the High Chief to punish him as he sees fit.
Ahma then leaned back in his chair and sighed. He thought he had chosen good people to travel with his daughter to take her to Vechkas. But apparently he had misjudged at least one of them. Hopefully no more rotten people would be found from among his representatives around his allies' courts. "I'm merely 53, yet sometimes I feel like I'm already getting too old for this," he thought to himself before heading to his chambers.
The Right Opportunities
It has been a couple months since the death of Branislava and Ahma is holding a great festival over the summer in her memory. But before the festival itself begins, Ahma and those of his vassals that have already gathered at his fort decide to hold a bit of a spear throwing competition to pass the time. They would come to learn that combining spear throwing and ale however, was not a good idea when they heard an agonizing scream from down the range. Päiviö had been struck by a spear, thrown by an unknown contestant since no one had seen who had thrown it and no one admitted to having thrown it. The rest decided that they would throw one last round before calling it a day, lest someone else gets struck by a spear too. The winner of the little contest turned out to be Ahma's second son, Kettu, much to the surprise of everyone, as he wasn't really even considered to be the strongest of the men present.
As the festival began a couple days later, Ahma decided to join his fellow Followers in a hunt to look for offerings to the gods. Ahma's luck was mediocre this time, only catching couple of rabbits and a fox. His hunting luck had gotten worse over the years, as he had hunted wolves, bears, wolverines and moose easily when he was younger. But now, he couldn't find anything to track or even just notice by chance.
"Maybe you are just getting old" Sirtya, a fellow Hero, told Ahma.
"Nonsense, I'm still plenty young. I still plan to live a few decades for certain" he answered.
"I'm sure you will" Sirtya chuckled.
But Ahma had to admit that he was no youngster anymore, but he wasn't old either. He was merely 51 years old at this point. Sirtya was about 70 if he remembers right, and with one foot in the grave. And he himself is in much better shape than what Sirtya was in his age so surely he would live to be at least 80, maybe more.
On their way back to the fort from the hunt Ahma encountered an old crone who offers to determine what the spirits and skies have in store for Ahma in the future. Ahma decides to give her the payment of single squirrel skin to hear what she has to say. Her words of the future were about as what he expected.
"A period of good luck is just around the corner, and that you need only look for the right opportunities to change life for the better."
Ahma had never really believed that one could know for certain what the spirits have in store for one's future, let alone other's. And the crones vague words only confirmed this belief.
"You could attribute anything to those words" he thought to himself as he continued his walk back towards the fort.
Near the end of the festival there was a poetry contest and Ahma decided to be one of the judges. Standing there with his Iron Crown on his head, Ceremonial Axe on his lap and clad in a bearskin cape he was an imposing sight. And clearly seen from the stage of the contest, so as to see how the contestants fare under the pressure of performing under the eyes of their King. And sure enough, a couple of them buckled under the pressure but finished their poems nonetheless. But the most impressive was without a doubt Suoma, daughter of late High Chief Voitto of Karelia. And her poem was slightly unusual, to say the least. It described a lady lamenting how her husband was taking part in a competition between heroes past, and how he is accidentally wounded in the competition, but no one admitting their guilt of wounding him and leaving him a mangled cripple for the rest of his days. It was hinted in the story that the lady and her husband knew who it was but have not said anything yet, for it would only be their word against the hero's so they are waiting for the man to admit his guilt on his own.
And so, with her moving poem Suoma was chosen as the victor. And the people asked for more of her poems. She relented and told another one. This one however, was what really piqued Ahma's interest. In her poem she once again hinted to many current Chiefs and High Chiefs both in and outside of Finland and to the things they have done. Both great feats and secret, more clandestine actions. How she has managed to get all that knowledge, Ahma didn't know and couldn't even begin to guess, but he was definitely interested in her now.
Later that day Ahma has one his guards escort her to him to the side street where he was waiting, away from the hustle and bustle of the festival. And away from unwanted ears. When she arrived, she didn't seem surprised with suddenly being face to face with the King. More like she expected it.
"My King, it seems you wished to speak with me?" she asked as she kneeled.
"Stand up. As the daughter of a High Chief, and of my brother-in-law, you need not kneel" he said to her.
After she stood up, he continued.
"I don't know where you gained all that information or how, and quite frankly, I don't care. All I care about is that I'd like you to work for me."
Ahma stepped next to her and continued.
"Seeing as how much you already know it probably won't be a surprise to you that Branislava worked as a spymaster of sorts for me. As my 'hand in the shadows', if you will. And I haven't been able to find anyone to replace her in that position."
Ahma tried to hold back tears, but a couple still streaked down his cheeks, as her death was still so fresh in his mind. But he made sure it didn't show.
"So what say you Suoma? A job as the King's hand in the shadows and a position in my council?"
"I thought you'd never ask, dear uncle" was her answer.
Ahma couldn't help but begin to laugh as he walked back towards the hustle and bustle of the festival with the guard trailing him. But before he did, he quickly turned around and told her "I'll see you tomorrow in my study! Until then, enjoy the festival!"
During the last day of the festivities Ahma heard news from a merchant who had arrived in town recently. Apparently his son-in-law Chief Vechkas had finally declared war on High Chief Kezhevat of Mochkava to claim his birthright after the boy High Chief was weakened in a war against some Slavic adventurer, looking to claim some lands for himself. Ahma was surprised that there had been no call to arms from his son-in-law to the war, but considering just how barely the High Chief's army won, it seemed Vechkas thought he could take on the remainder of the army just fine by himself.
As autumn was coming around and Ahma was leaving for yet another great gathering a messenger arrived. He brought news that Chief Pyry of Satakunta, son of late Ihala 'the Moaner', had died of old age. So now his son, and Ahma's nephew, Urho has become the Chief. Ahma thanked the messenger and then went on his way. His sister Ilta had married Pyry such a long time ago, it seemed. To sort of mend the wounds that the bitter rivalry between Ahma and Ihala had caused. For the most part it had seemed to have worked. None of Ihala's sons held any animosity towards him, quite contrary, they hated their own father. "He was quite the unlikable man" Ahma later thought to himself.
Upon arrival to the Gathering Ahma notices a curious sight. A Bolghar man has joined their ranks. Ahma asks about the man from Rayda, the newest Hero of the Followers.
"Do you know who that Bolghar man is? When did he join?"
"Oh, him? That's Khagan Sevar. I oversaw his induction myself. Quite the promising man indeed."
"You did?"
"Yes, well, I was the closest of the Heroes to where he's from. His lands are just south of Perm. He and his clan recently broke away from the Pechenegs after their Khagan died. They have followed the same gods as us for a generation or two, but only now had an opportunity to leave behind the tengri Pecheneg Khagans."
"I see. Interesting, indeed. We'll see how he will fare among us."
"Oh, don't you worry. I'm expecting great things from him myself."
Rayda then broke out into his easily recognizable booming laughter, and everyone took it as a sign to begin the celebrations. Later the same day Ahma was talking with some other members who had concerns about their fellow Warrior, Feodosia. She hasn't been doing well in fights recently, mostly because she has been trying to fight those above her skill, and now she seems to be afraid of fighting anymore. Ahma then suggests that Suonjar, a fellow Warrior who should be of somewhat equal skill to Feodosia have a sparring match with her. It took some convincing and suggesting but finally the two of them were outside with their fists up. The fight was rather one sided despite the two supposedly being of equal skill and strength. Suonjar almost beat Feodosia to a pulp and she was afraid for her life. Needless to say, she didn't appreciate the effort of trying to get her to fighting spirits again.
Once the Gathering was over and Ahma was on his way back home he received two letters a few days before getting to Finland. Ahma thanks the man and takes the letters. First one seems to be from his chancellor, High Chief Onni of Savonia. Onni begins the letter by telling that his son-in-law Vechkas is now the High Chief of Mochkava and Meschera. He had indeed been successful in his war to reclaim the High Chiefdoms. This pleased Ahma greatly, as he would have another ally who just kept growing in strength. Then Onni writes about some less fortunate news. It seems Ahma's most experienced scribe has passed away. The man was one of the most skilled scribes in all of Finland, even being an apprentice to one of the teachers that Amalric originally taught to write and read so long ago. Ahma cursed his luck, but decided that this would not hinder his project. He would finish his book, even if he would have to travel to Miklagardr to find a scribe to replace the dead one.
Ahma then opened the second letter. It didn't have any sort of markings on it to distinguish as to who it was from, but as soon as Ahma opened it, he saw who it was from. It was from his new spymaster, Suoma. She began by apologizing that she hasn't been able to perform her duties to her fullest for a few days due to grief over the death of her husband, Päiviö. But she says that she had managed to find some dirt on one his Chiefs that could help him keep the said Chief in line, if he so wished. Ahma hoped that it wouldn't come to that but he decided to hold on to that information just in case for now.
The next winter also brought with it a letter, this time directly from his son-in-law, High Chief Vechkas of Moskva and Meschera. In it he explained how someone from the entourage of Hellä had belittled Vechkas' achievement of conquering the High Chiefdoms that were taken from his father. He called the person's actions "tasteless" and "unacceptable for a representative of an ally". Ahma wrote two letters that evening. One for his son-in-law, apologizing for the man's behavior and that he will take care of it. The second was addressed to the rude diplomat. He was to apologize for his behavior and words and to return to Finland immediately or he would not be considered a representative of the King anymore and thus would be at the mercy of the High Chief to punish him as he sees fit.
Ahma then leaned back in his chair and sighed. He thought he had chosen good people to travel with his daughter to take her to Vechkas. But apparently he had misjudged at least one of them. Hopefully no more rotten people would be found from among his representatives around his allies' courts. "I'm merely 53, yet sometimes I feel like I'm already getting too old for this," he thought to himself before heading to his chambers.