Rise of the Folkungs, A Nordic AAR

[streaker77]

Rise of the Folkungs Chapter 216
Early December, 1073, Ceredigion

Sturla sat in the saddle, the feeling of fear once again resonating through his whole body, his horse, as if sensing its masters discomfort also grew restless.

The King steadied his horse, hoping his hands would not betray his fear to the men around him, who stood silent as they looked upon their enemy, the men of Beortwhine who were arranged almost entirely into the center flank in a large shieldwall, with only a small skirmishing force on the left to counter Ercwlfs flank.

Steady yourself man, you were trained for this Sturla thought angrily to himself. This was true, but only to an extent, he had been personally educated by his father, but Frirek had been the most strict on Eskild, since he had been the one expected to become the new King, Frirek had trained Sturla in the basics of leading a warband and commanding a battle, but he was woefully undertrained in personal combat, and the King was not blind to his ineptitude.

Light snow began to fall upon the rocky ground of the welsh coast, it was not Beortwhines territory, but Eskild Kolsson, who Sturla had put in command of the warband of near 5500 men had been eager for battle after the many months of siege and ordered the army to intercept them before Beortwhine could attempt to recapture his vassals castle.

Sturla had soon regretted his vow to personally lead the campaign he had made after the attempt on Ercwlfs life, it had been made with excitement and adrenaline and when it wore off the King considered remaining in Forde and sending both the Kolsson brothers to lead , but he had made a vow and reluctantly accompanied the army. The beginning had not been all bad, and Sturla had even considered it boring. Beortwhine and his men abandoned his lands and marched into Eriu to plunder the Folkungs holdings there and Eskild Kolsson had been content to siege Beortwhines lands, and they had layed siege to Beortwhines vassals castle of Mathrafal to secure the rear before they moved to Beortwhines own castle of Wenlock.

After many weeks of siege they took Beortwhines castle of Wenlock, finding that his family had been spirited out, but then the few longships and scouts Eskild had left in St. Georges Chanel brought word that Beortwhine was returning from his bloody rampage in Eriu. Sturla had heard that the Castle of Clones in Oriel had been looted and brutally pillaged on the orders of Beortwhine, who had the chiefs wife and most of the garrison executed.

Sturla felt a sadness that he had not been able to save Clones from his fate...he had wanted to break their siege and stop Beortwhine, but Eskild had gruffly said that pursuing an enemy through Eriu would be a dangerous affair and it would be best to draw the welsh into a battle of their own choosing.

We will avenge them soon Sturla thought, though his thinking was suddenly shattered by the shrill sounding of a warhorn from Eskilds flank in the middle.

''It has begun Lord King.'' One of Sturlas Huskarls, an experienced warrior from West Svibjod named Bengt av Selanger said. Bengt was one of Jarl Eskilds men who the Jarl had given to the King to advise him in the battle and had proved to be more than capable thus far.

Sturla nodded, Bengts words confirmed by the fact that Eskild Kolsson had sent his horseman to prod and harass Beortwhines flank and attempt to disturb the formidable shield wall, Ercwlf had also done the same and was sending cavalry to attack the small force on the left Beortwhine had left to delay them.

''Send in the horseman to join with Eskilds men.'' Sturla said, it appeared Jarl Eskild wanted to prod the enemy and look for a weak spot to attack rather than beginning with an all-out charge and the King was content to follow his lead.

''Rytter Avansere!'' Bengt shouted, drawing his sword, causing one of the Kings hornmen to give the signal for Sturlas 175 horseman to advance towards the enemy center.

Beortwhine, seeing that the battle would begin slowly rather than an all out charge, ordered his own horseman to shadow the Norwegian cavalry, he was outnumbered, but he still had almost 500 mounted men. The two sides did not actively engage, though small pockets of fighting began as riders on both sides rode to close and created several small engagements.

The King watched the fighting from afar, and grimaced when he saw a mounted norwegian man take a spear to the gut and fall from his horse.

''This battle will be done quickly when the time to charge comes...it will be over soon'' Bengt said, sensing the Kings uneasiness.

''How do you know?'' The King demanded, the words coming out a bit gruffer than he intended.

''Forgive me my lord I should not speculate.'' Bengt said, bowing his head.

''Go on...'' Sturla said, regaining his composure.

''They say that this Beortwhine does not pay his soldiers and that his coffers are empty...men will fight for a cruel man, even a tyrant...so long as he can give them silver...if he cannot....they will not die needlessly for him.'' Bengt said with a shrug and Sturla nodded his understanding and went back to observing the battle.

Ercwlf had put the small skirmish force on the left to flight and was joining in harrasing the enemy center with Eskilds and Sturlas riders, slowly forcing the Welsh horseman to fall back and getting close enough for some of his riders to hurl spears at the shield wall. After a few more minutes of skirmishing the welsh horseman, seeing their disadvantage in numbers, retreated behind the shield-wall.

Ercwlf ordered his own horseman back and had his longbowmen step forward and fire upon the center, seeing that he now had cover to advance, Jarl Eskilds hormen signaled his huskarls and freedman to advance, slowly at first and then in a light jog towards the center.

''It is time my King....this battle now must be settled in the Skjaldborg.'' Bengt said grimly.

''Send in the infantry, Huskarls first then the freedman...you lead them.'' Sturla said, recognizing that the time for advanced tactics had ended and it now came down to the fierce and chaotic shieldwall. Bengt nodded and paused when he saw Sturla putting on a metal helm and taking a spear from one of his attendants.

''You should stay here Lord King....we outnumber them, but all it takes is one man that recognizes you and tries to be a hero.'' Bengt said cautiously.

The King shook his head ''I am no craven...I brought these men here, and I will do my duty and follow them into battle.''

Bengt nodded and Sturla hoped that he could not see his shaking hands.

The two men dismounted, Bengt headed to the front and Sturla headed to the back rank, but not before Bengt assigned five of his best warriors to stay with the King at all times and the charge across the field began. It started off as a jog, the clanking of armor and shields were the only sound at first. Sturla almost tripped on a rock but managed to catch himself and kept going, then everything changed.

The Norwegians, who had gathered their courage on the long jog shrieked and shouted war cries, banging their axes and spears on their shields as they got closer to the welsh line. Sturla could not see very well due to being at the back, but he figured they had to be getting close.

His suspicions were confirmed when there was a deafening crash of shields and men, the back rank being pushed back by the sheer force of the collision. Sturla could not see what was happening but he could hear it and it would be a sound he would remember for the rest of his life.

It was the sound of death, the sound of shrieking and of axes and spears hitting flesh, the cries of the killers and the cries of those being killed. Sturla was shocked for a moment but he composed himself and looked to his right at one of the huskarls, a burly man with braided blonde hair.

''Like this lord!'' The man said, giving Sturla a quick glance and pushing his shield and a free hand into the rank in front of them, forcing the rank forward.

Sturla nodded and pushed the man in front of him into the chaos of the Skjaldborg.

Bengt was right, the welsh were outnumbered and they knew it, and they had no interest or motivation to stay and fight to the death for a man that could not even provide them with silver and they began to flee, a few at first, then dozens.

Sturlas part in the battle was rather limited, he did not see much action in the back rank, but towards the end of the melee a few welsh had somehow slipped by, and the King had managed a clumsy strike with his spear at one of the men though it was easily blocked and the men disappeared into the mass of men once more.

Sturla, shouted at his men to let the welsh flee, his feud was with Beortwhine, not them and he did not wish to be known as those that slaughtered those that had fled, his men reluctantly fell back, though Ercwlf led a few men to try and capture his brother, though they were ultimately unsuccessful.

At the end of the battle 1200 men lay dead on the rocky ground of Ceredigion, a thousand welsh and almost 250 Norwegians, including 100 huskarls and 25 horseman, though Beortwhine escaped.

That night at the feast, Sturla was silent, memories of his father telling the tale of the battle of Glen Dochart in his mind, back then they had only been stories but Sturla at last understood what a powerful and strong ruler his father had been to survive well over a dozen battles.

''You did well my King.'' Bengt said, offering the King an ale to which the King waved it away.

''My father...'' Sturla began but was interrupted by Jarl Eskild.

''This messenger has something you should hear King.'' Eskild said grimly, his eyes showing that this was no small matter.

Sturla looked at the messenger, a feeling of dread in his stomach.

''King.....Audunborg...it.....it has been sacked and pillaged.'' The messenger said, quietly as to not alert the feasting soldiers.

Sturla almost fell backwards in shock, Audunborg was the most formidable fortress in Norway and it had a formidable garrisson, it would have taken months to capture it.

''Who...What man would have such a force!'' Sturla said in shock.

''The Irish....from Connachata, King Beortwhine has allied with them and he called them into the war, they somehow amassed a large fleet, large enough to carry almost 7000 men to Audunborg.'' The man said grimly.

Suddenly Sturla remembered something that made his skin turn white ''My family...what has happened to them...and why did it take to long to get word here, you had months to inform us, we would have returned home and broken the siege!''

The messenger hesitated ''I do not know my King.....''

''What do you mean you dont know!'' Sturla said with great frustration, causing some of his men to look up.

''We left just before the castle fell, last I knew your wife and children were still trapped inside, along with Jarl Gudfrid, we tried many times to get word to you but the Irish had a large fleet and killed or captured any ship that tried to bring you message, we barely got past their blockade.'' The messenger said defensively.

There was a silence before Jarl Eskild spoke ''My brother will have gotten them out.....if anyone could have done it it would be him.''

Sturla did not answer that but turned to Eskild, a determination in his eyes ''In two days we leave Wales and go back home.....we shall...shall see what has happened and drive them from our lands.

Eskild nodded grimly, leaving Sturla alone.

The King, a normally temperate man grabbed the ale near Bengt and drained it.

How could I have been such a fool The King thought miserably.

Sleep did not come easy that night, and would not until he learned what had happened to his family and what had transpired at Audunborg.

 

[stnylan]

Ouch!

Sturla did well in the fray himself, but one's opponents rarely do what you want them to do in war. A very important lesson for him.

 

[Bullfilter]

Nasty - a large host rampaging through the heartland. Sounds like a general call out of the vassals will be required. Let’s hope the family have either escaped or only been captured ... not suffering the same fate as Oriel!

 

[streaker77]

Ouch!

Sturla did well in the fray himself, but one's opponents rarely do what you want them to do in war. A very important lesson for him.

A lesson that he will need to fully understand if he is to survive the challenges ahead, things are going to get rough.

Nasty - a large host rampaging through the heartland. Sounds like a general call out of the vassals will be required. Let’s hope the family have either escaped or only been captured ... not suffering the same fate as Oriel!

Unfortunately the force in Wales comprised a good deal of Norways forces, but there will be some reinforcements. Oriel was bloody, but Beortwhine will claim yet another victim before this is all over.

-In the coming chapters there will be a lot of major stuff going on, murder, betrayals and intrigue among them, but as the game decided to throw a lot of separate events at me in a short period of time the next few chapters will take a while to get out as I figure out how to piece them all together, thanks for the continued suppourt and I hope its been a enjoyable story so far.

 

[streaker77]

Rise of the Folkungs Chapter 217
March, 1074, Sogn


Sturla gripped the side of the longship as it made its way to the rocky shores of Sogn, a horn was sounded by some horseman on the shore, but the King barely heard it, his mind was on his three children, Karin, Hrolfr and Snofrid, as well as his wife.

Beortwhine was not there Sturla thought to himself, trying in vain to stay positive.

By all accounts his cruel nephew had not been in Norway and had remained in Wales, a fact that boded well for the Kings family. The King had heard that the Chief Holmger of Oriels wife had been personally tortured and flayed to death by Beortwhine, but he hoped that King Conmac would have been more subdued in his capture of Audunborg, the man was known as the Holy after all.

Sturla was shaken by the ship hitting the shore of Sogn, almost causing him to fall but he regained his footing and, somewhat embarrassed began to help his men moor the longship as his other ships did the same.

He heard the sounds of horseman and looked up, and saw a contingent of riders bearing a Folkung banner riding towards the shore, lead by a familiar face.

''Gudfrid!'' Sturla called, a bit of hope rising in him, Gudfrid Kolsson had been besieged within Audunborg along with the Kings family, if he had escaped that boded well for his family.

Gudfrid rode over to the shore, his horseman following him, and Eskild Kolsson emerged from one of the ships and helped his older brother from his horse.

Gudfrid, no doubt sensing the Kings anxiety nodded.

''We managed to get your family out before it fell, the garrison sallied out with help from 1200 of the local chiefs men and gave us enough of a distraction and time to get them to safety, we killed 500 of the bastards but the castle fell the next day.'' Gudfrid said grimly.

''Where are they?'' Sturla asked with relief.

''I had them sent to Vermaland, they are at your estate of Saxholm, they will be safe there.'' The grey-haired marshal said, earning a pat on the back from his brother.

''How many are the enemy, was the castle razed?'' The King asked with some worry.

''They have near 6500, a formidable force, but their King was fairly subdued in taking the castle, the garrisson was spared and we managed to get the treasury out along with your family, though some valuables were taken, he is sieging the village of Fildir now, they have fine walls, but they cant hold for ever.'' Gudfrid explained.

''Then let us go and break the siege, with my force and your 1200 men we have around equal to them!'' Sturla said, eager to rescue the prosperous village from a looting.

''We will go and break the siege Sturla, you shall be joining your family at Saxholm and await us there..'' Gudfrid said gruffly, putting extra emphasis on the word we.

The King bristled at that ''I can fight Gudfrid, I led men at Cardigan against the Welsh....we were victorious..''

''I know you can...but this battle will not be like Cardigan, the numbers will be equal and victory is not certain, especially since they will have the defensive positions in the mountians and we will need to dislodge them.'' Gudfrid said.

''I began this war, I will not abandon my warriors...it is my duty to accompany them.'' Sturla said, seeing some logic in his marshals explanation but still not willing to concede.

''Damnit boy! It is your duty as King to listen to your advisers, I have been Marshal of this kingdom for decades, and a commander for even longer, you have fought one battle and I dozens...this battle is winnable but I need more experienced men to lead the flanks, and if you are killed than we risk civil war.....you will join your family in Saxholm...whom I rescued I might mention!'' Gudfrid said angrily, the old warriors temper showing almost to the point of shouting before his brother calmed him.

A more proud man would have taken offense to one of his vassals making demands of him, but Sturla was rather cowed by it, and he knew that the old mans advice was to be listened, something his late father had told him before he set out to Faereyar.

''Very well, I will go to Saxholm then.'' Sturla said, almost meekly.

Gudfrid nodded, his temper cooled ''Good lad.''


Two Weeks Later

The King stood on the walls, looking into the misty forests outside of Saxholm Castle, it was a cold morning, but Sturla had little else to do.

It had been days since he had last heard from Gudfrid, his Marshal had sent a rider to inform him that they would march on the Irish within a few days, but he had heard nothing since then.

His time at Saxholm felt like weeks, Saxholm was a very fine and formidable keep, not unpleasant to stay at, and the neighboring Arvika village was prosperous and rich, but due to recent developments he was largely forced to stay within the keep itself.

When he had arrived at Saxholm, he was greeted by his family, who were elated to see him, but his wife Skuld, who was also his spymaster shared some troubling news.

While besieged in Audunborg, she had heard whispers of a plot to kill him, she did not know who was involved, but it was clear that there were those that wanted him dead.

As a result, he had gone stayed in the safety of Saxholm surrounded by his guard, not venturing out to the countryside, the first day he visited the tomb of King Alfr within the castle, a former Folkung King who had been killed over 100 years ago in battle near the castle, and the next few days he toured the fortress, but after a while it became quite dull.

''Husband!'' A voice from a tower said.

The King looked up to see his wife looking down on him.

''You should stay away from that ledge, lest you end up like old King Sigarr!'' His wife called out.

''Sigarr fell.'' Sturla grumbled, but he nodded and was about to leave until he saw a flash of blue in the trees.

He struggled to see through the mist, but after a moment he managed to make out several horseman carrying Folkung banners, slowly appearing from the fog.

Sturla was about to shout to his guard to open the gates, but they had already sounded a horn and begun to raise the portcullis.

As they got closer, he saw Ercwlf, and Gudfrid and Eskild Kolsson at the forefront, looking tired but otherwise unharmed.

The King breathed a sigh of relief, all three of his commanders had survived the battle, which would have been unlikely if they had been defeated, he knew that all three men were fine warriors and would have fought to the death.

The King made his way down to the courtyard to await them at the gate, his only son Hrolfr, a boy of near 11 also ran down to join him.

''The army is back father, did they win...is the war over!'' Hrolfr asked excitedly.

The King put a steadying hand on his sons shoulder ''Patience lad, we shall find out soon enough.''

The Prince nodded and did his best to emulate the calm and steady pose of the guards in the courtyard.

Ercwlf and the Kolsson brothers dismounted when they entered the courtyard, handing the reigns to some grooms that had rushed to attend them.

Bersi av Selanger, who had been leading the Kings guard at Saxholm had a smile on his face ''They were victorious my King, you can tell....ive never seen a defeated man look like that.

Ercwlf approached Sturla, the Kolsson brothers close behind.

''Audunborg has been retaken my King and the siege of Fildir has been broken and the Irish put to flight, we have attained victory.'' Ercwlf said happily.

''This Kingdom owes you a debt, and I shall see it paid......what are the details...and the losses?'' Sturla asked, forcing himself not to grow to happy, he knew victory would have had a steep price in his peoples blood.

''It was hard fought, King Conmac is a fine commander and it took many hours to break them, we lost over 2000 men, 200 horseman, 600 huskarls and around half of our dead were freeman, the enemy lost 3000 but were forced to retreat when their counterattack failed.'' Gudfrid said and Sturla nodded, slightly grimacing at the losses.

''Counterattack?'' Sturla asked, curious to know more of the battle.

Gudfrid nodded ''Aye....it did not look good for a while, Ercwlfs men took many losses from the irish longbowmen and he was forced to relieve pressure on the enemy left, which joined in with their center against my flank, it was hard fought but I could not hold against 2 flanks....my brother Eskild was the hero of the day, his men held their ground until the day was won.''

Sturla looked at the younger Kolsson brother with respect, earning a grunt from Eskild, who looked uncomfortable with the attention.

''Will your brother concede?'' Sturla asked Ercwlf.

''He may have no choice too, King Conmac met with us under the flag of truce following the battle, he joined this war because honor demands it due to his son and heir being married to my sister Isabel, and he will sail back and tell Beortwhine that it is time to end this war....he said he will not oppose my right to become King of Powys, but he said that Beortwhine still has a right to land in Wales since he is the first born son.'' Ercwlf said grimly.

''Can we simply not have his lands taken and given to you, banishing him?'' Sturla asked.

Ercwlf shook his head ''Such a thing would outrage all of Wales, we have our own ways and as much as it pain me to say, it would be more trouble than its worth.''

''You will not be safe if your brother still holds land in Wales nephew.'' Sturla said with concern.

Ercwlf shrugged ''There is little we can do, when I am King I can try to find reason to banish him but it will take time.''

The King thought for a moment before he had an idea.

''After Svartis rebellion I ordered a borg to be built in Skara, it is called Axevalla and it is surely finished by now, I could give the estate to you, you would be safer ruling Powys from Norway than a few miles from Beortwhines lands.'' Sturla said.

''Such a thing would make me your vassal uncle, I did not know that you wished Norway to be the overlord of Powys....I thought this war was one of honor for you not expansion.'' Ercwlf said, a slight frown on his face.

''It need not be permanent, only until you find cause to banish your brother, or if he dies, I would grant you independence then...you have my word...such an arrangement perhaps would give your brother pause if he wishes to regain his throne....you would have my protection.'' Sturla said quickly, seeing how his plan, made with good intentions could be seen as a way to only increase his own power.

''And what would happen to Axevalla, when I gain my independence?'' Ercwlf asked, clearly trying to determine if this was a trick.

''We can figure out that when the time comes, this is no trick nephew, my father offered you and your mother protection and I have done the same, I do not wish to see you gain your throne only to lose it to your treacherous brother.'' Sturla said, pausing before extending his hand.

Ercwlf nodded and took the Kings hands, conceding Powys independence in exchange for the Kings protection.

Three Weeks Later, Audunborg Castle, Forde

Sturla sat at the head of the table, looking at his nephew...the man that had been the cause of so much trouble.

Beortwhine was an ugly man, his face long and narrow with small beady green eyes, his teeth were yellowed and a long mustache hung down to his chin.

That was not to say he was not a formidable figure, he was tall and bulky, and his eyes had an unmistakable look of cruelty in them, and Sturla found it difficult to look at them for long.

His nephew had arrived a day prior in Audunborg, which had largely been repaired from the Irish looting since King Conmac had been subdued in capturing it. Beortwhine had obviously been in a foul mood, his allies had abandoned him and he had no chance of winning and he knew it even if he did not admit it.

Let us end this quickly Sturla thought to himself, he was oddly pertrubed by his nephews presence and he wanted the man far from him.

The King sat at the head of the table, with Ercwlf to his left and his sister Herja to his right, and Beortwhine on the opposite side.

''You have lost the right to lead your Kingdom nephew.....Ercwlf was under my protection and you sent men to kill him, in front of your own mother no less.'' Sturla said.

''I had nothing to do with that.'' Beortwhine said surly.

''Do not deny it brother...you tried it once and failed...in the same way...you couldnt resist trying it again.'' Ercwlf said.

''If it had ordered it.....I would have chosen a better archer....one that wouldnt have missed.'' Beortwhine said, a cold and venomous fury in his voice.

Herja stood up suddenly ''Enough.....I have watched your squabbles for years, and they will NOT continue....Beortwhine...you are lucky for the laws of Wales guarantee you retain your land and some of your influence, you must content yourself with that.....Ercwlf has the protection of my brother the King....and he will not stand idly by while you plot against him...your kingship is over....accept it!''

Beortwhine chuckled, though there was no light in his eyes ''And how did he secure your brothers protection....he bent over backwards for the northman....surrendering our fathers land for a scrap of bread.....our father would be ashamed of you.''

''Enough....you came here to surrender the Kingship.....do so now.'' Sturla said, growing annoyed by Beortwhines antics.

''I see I have little choice...take the Kingship then little brother...I hope you choke on it.'' Beortwhine said, spitting on the floor.

Beortwhine turned to leave but Ercwlf stood suddenly.

''You wear a cross upon your neck Beortwhine.....you will have no need of it where you are going.'' Ercwlf said.

Beortwhine smiled slightly ''I am going home little brother.....you will hide here behind our mothers skirts....you will never be a King, not so long as you hide here....and you will never return to Powys.''

''We shall see.'' Ercwlf said, his hands turning white due to holding the table edge in anger.

Beortwhine then turned and left, his personal guard waiting outside to take him to Fildir where a ship was waiting.

Ercwlf was still standing, almost shaking in anger, but his mother helped him sit in a chair.

''I want to kill him....I know he killed my brother Tegwyd....I know it....and he comes in here and says I am the traitor!'' Ercwlf said angrily.

''You cannot Ercwlf...that is what makes us better than him...we do not murder....your brother shall meet his punishment, but we will not act in the shadows, we will find reason to banish him and you can return to Wales.'' Sturla said.

Herja looked around ''Let us eat...we should be happy...the war is over and he is gone, today should be a day of celebration...you are a King now Ercwlf, forget about him.''

Sturla nodded and gestured for some servants to come, who layed a spread of venision and ale.

''I hear our sister Gunhildr has finally birthed a son, I am happy for her.'' Herja said cutting some venision.

''I was thinking of paying her a visit in Sogn when this was all over.'' Sturla said with a nod.

''You should visit Ellisif as well.....you know she has been elected a chieftess in Osterdalenin the mountains.'' Herja said.

''That is a long journey.'' Sturla said with hesitation.

Herja stopped for a moment ''She is dying Sturla......''

Sturla paused, but before he could respond there was a clatter.

He turned to see Ercwlf standing up, his cup of ale fallen on the floor and his face slightly red.

''What is the matter...Ercwlf...Ercwlf!'' Herja said with concern, standing.

''Not...Nothing'' Ercwlf said, attempting to wave his mother away but instead falling backwards, his hands grasping at his neck as he writhed on the floor.

''ERCWLF!'' Herja screamed, going to a knee beside her son while Sturla stood there in shock.

The King of Powys face had now turned a deep shade of purple, and he was kicking his feet, knocking over a chair.

''DO SOMETHING!'' Herja cried, turning to Sturla who was still standing there in a daze.

Sturla nodded and ran from the room, not knowing what to do, Audunborg had no physician and he doubted Ercwlf would make it all the way to the Bishop in Kinn.

After a moment he saw a servant who had been drawn by the noise and the King grabbed her wrist, knowing she could likely do little but he ran back into the room anyways.

When Sturla re-entered the room he noticed that his sister was no longer screaming, but weeping, kneeling beside Ercwlf, who had gone still.

The King approached his sister slowly, and to his surprise she stood quickly, wiping her tears, a look of hatred in her eyes.

''Dont let him get way.'' She whispered in a hoarse voice.

Beortwhine did not get away, he either thought the poison would take longer to kick in or overestimated the speed at which he could get to his ship at Fildir and it cost him. His small guard was chased down by several horseman from Audunborg and they all threw down their weapons, save for Beortwhine who managed to wound a guard before being subdued.

Sturla did not sleep that night, he wanted to kill his nephew....and he almost ordered Gudfrid to drag the man out into the courtyard and take his head, but one thing stopped him.

That is what makes us better than him Sturla thought, remembering the phrase he had told Ercwlf only minutes before his death.

Sturla eventually decided on banishment, in truth he did not have any evidence that it had been Beortwhine who had ordered the poisoning but no one opposed his decision....it could have been no-one else.

Powys came into the hands of Beortwhines young son Llywarch, and Sturla had Ercwls remains sent to Powys for their final rest, but as he watched the ship take Ercwlf back home, he couldnt help but feel the war and all the death that had came along with it, was all for nothing.

 

[Bullfilter]

A dramatic end to the brotherly feud. And there is still the issue of the rumoured plot on the life of the king as well? In a way, Ercwulf made the feigned attempt on his own life a reality, it seems. A tangled web of his own weaving he was caught in himself.

 

[stnylan]

Brotherly love ... can't beat it

 

[terr0rizm]

That was a damn short reign. At least the war has not truly been for nothing, as the promise to eventually release Powys again is void as well. One still can hardly blame Sturla for feeling that way.

Neat little reminiscence to the earlier Folkung kings. Hopefully no foreshadowing from Skuld.

 

[streaker77]

A dramatic end to the brotherly feud. And there is still the issue of the rumoured plot on the life of the king as well? In a way, Ercwulf made the feigned attempt on his own life a reality, it seems. A tangled web of his own weaving he was caught in himself.

Good point with Ercwlf, and in regads to the plot it is still very much a danger and there are many involved, some expected and some surprising, but Sturla will get help from an unlikely source, but they wont be acting with good intentions.

That was a damn short reign. At least the war has not truly been for nothing, as the promise to eventually release Powys again is void as well. One still can hardly blame Sturla for feeling that way.

Neat little reminiscence to the earlier Folkung kings. Hopefully no foreshadowing from Skuld.

You are right about Powys, but if it truly wants to be a part of the kingdom it will need further wars in the area to connect it to the coast as it is landlocked, and Sturla will have bigger issues in the near future.

Brotherly love ... can't beat it

More of the same will be coming in the following chapter

 

[streaker77]

Rise of the Foulkungs Chapter 214
May, 1075, Hamarhus Castle, Osterdalen

Ellisif Frireksdottir was dying and she knew it. The gout had spread throughout her entire body and she had been unable to leave her bed for weeks now, every breath was a struggle and despite the hearth in the chambers, she felt chilled.

Despite all of this, she had held off on what she knew she had to do, another day she told herself, but when she awoke in the morning she felt in her bones it was her last chance to do so...her time had come.

She had thought that she would die all those years ago when she came down with consumption while under siege with her daughter Ffraid after her husbands death, but christ had spared her and she had gone on to see her daughter reach adulthood and become Queen of Stratheclyde, and she herself had returned to Norway after being elected to govern the mountain chiefdom of Osterdalen, but she knew that this time was different.

She called for one of the servant girls assigned to care for her, her voice coming out as a whisper.

'My dear.....summon Chaplain Halsten, as well as chancellor Frirek.'' Ellisif said tiredly, but doing her best to give a smile.

''Of course countess.'' The girl said, readjusting Ellisifs furs before leaving.

Ellisif almost lost her nerve during the long wait, she knew what could occur due to her words, and how troublesome it could be for her little brother Sturla, but she did not want the secret to die with her.

Chaplain Halsten, a lowborn man who served as Chaplain since Osterdalen did not have a Bishopric and Chancellor Frirek, a distant and quiet folkung kinsman walked in the room, their faces grim.

Halsten was about to speak when Ellisif held up a hand and began to speak clearly, though her voice trembled slightly.

''Thirty six years ago, when I was a young woman betrothed to King Ivor, who was not yet of age, I asked my father permission to visit my mother at Husavik in Iceland for a period of months, and he agreed.'' Ellisif began and both men nodded with visible confusion.

''It is there that I gave birth to a child...born out of marriage.....a boy.'' She continued slowly.

''You have lived a good life countess and I am sure Christ will take that into account....a small tithe to myself and the church after your passing and I would be glad to pray that your time in purgatory be lessened.'' Halsten interjected casually.

''I am not finished yet.'' Ellisif said sternly, and the man nodded and became silent.

''My father Frirek knew of this....and he promised to watch over the boy...his first grandchild.....he sent him to be raised at Baalhuslen with the younger Kolsson brother Eskild, following this...he...he granted him land, the chiefdom of Ostergotland.'' Ellisif said, stopping for a break.

''Your son is Arngrimr...of Ostergotland!'' Halsten said with realization and shock, and her chancellor looked equally as surprised. Arngrimr was a prestigious warrior who held land upon Norways southern border, the mans brutality and cruelty against pagan raiders and sometimes his own people was well known.

Ellisif nodded ''He is my son...and he is also the first and eldest male grandchild of my father King Frirek and thus....thus deserves consideration to be elected as the next King of Norway should he outlive my brother...he has a claim to the throne.''

''He is a bastard countess.'' Frirek said with uncertainty.

''He is a grandsson of my father....and the realm deserves to know this when it comes time to elect a new King....my last order....is to spread this information.'' Ellisif said.

''You realize this could start a war countess?'' Halsten said nervously.

Ellisif was quiet before she touched the silver cross necklace that she had received as a child in Faereyr. ''God decides all...his will be done.''

Both men nodded reluctantly.

Countess Ellisif Frireksdottir, eldest child of the late King and the mother to both a chief and a queen died late that night, and news of her confession would quickly spread throughout Norway, attracting the attention of many chiefs.

Three Weeks Later, Leikanger, Sogn

Starkadr Eilifsson sat beside old Gunnarr of Sogn, as he watched the crowd of nobles at the benches in the hall enjoy the feast he had set out for them in preparation of the meeting.

Present were Duke Barid of Soreyar, an exeedingly strange man but one that had been easy to convince to come due to the death of his sister Roginfrid in the sacking of Oriel by the welsh. There were also the minor chiefs of Sunamaere and Gudbransdalen, minor and unimportant in the realm as well as count Arngrimr of Ostergotland, whos true parentage had only recently been revlealed. Eskild Frireksson of Skagen was also present, Starkadr had once been his rival but after the former heir to Norways descent into a pitiful state, Starkadr had managed to gain influence over him by marrying his son Ubbein to Eskilds daughter Cecillia.

Starkadr looked to his left and saw Gunnarr of Sogn sitting there, seemingly in a trance with spittle drippling into his beard.

Old fool Starkadr thought, though he admitted it was for the better, Gunnarrs had long since lost his memory and had no recollection or sense of what Eskild Frireksson, who was sitting in that very hall, had done to him all those years ago.

It was not a particularly formidable group of men, and Starkadr had no doubts that left alone they would fail to accomplish anything.

It will all be the same in the end Starkadr thought, a small smile on his face.

Suddenly the door opened and Jarl Eskild of Viken, and the younger of the famed Kolsson brothers walked in.

''Welcome Jarl Gudfrid, I trust your journey was well?'' Starkadr said, still sitting down as Eskild Kolsson greeted his former ward Arngrimr of Ostergotland.

When he had finished Jarl Eskild, by far the most formidable in the room grunted ''I am here to listen....nothing more, nothing less.''

Starkadr nodded and Eskild approached and attempted to greet his old friend Gunnarr of Sogn, whom had served with him on King Frireks small council but the old chief of Sogn stared blankly into the distance.

''His mind is gone.'' Starkadr said.

Eskild paused ''You have assembled an interesting group here....Gunnarr, Eskild Frireksson, and Jarl Barid are all mad-men, you cannot seriously hope for this to work.''

''The King will not suspect them, and if any of them were to say anything it would be ignored as nonsense, their insanity is a powerful tool...a shield if you will.'' Starkadr explained, pouring himself some ale.

Gudfrid said nothing and went to sit next to Arngrimr.

After several more minutes, Starkadr stood and waited for all in the hall to face him, all except Gunnarr of Sogn who sat there with a blank expression.

''As you all know, King Sturla is away in Iceland to deal with the rebellion in Nordland....his absence gives us a chance to meet freely without him hearing about this.'' Starkadr began and the men in the room nodded.

Only days after word of Ellisifs confession spread, there was a rebellion in Nordland, the seat of his imprisoned nephew Svartis wife Sigrid. When the Kingdom of Saxony had fallen, many of its people had fled to Iceland, and while Norway eventually conquered the region, they remained there, and it seemed after dozens of years they wanted their own independent region and King Sturla had gone personally to try and prevent bloodshed.

''And what is it you are suggesting?'' Eskild Kolsson asked in a quiet tone.

''I propose....that King Sturla should never make it back to Audunborg....when his longship lands at Forde, he should be ambushed....with his death there will be a Ting, his brother Viddar has much suppourt, but we could then demand that Arngrimr be installed as the new King...whom we all suppourt.'' Starkadr said with a curt smile.

Eskild Kolsson stood suddenly ''I should have known not to come here....you are a snake Starkadr Eilifsson...I came to listen at the behest of Arngrimr...but I do not want to get involved in this, Sturla Frireksson has done no wrong by me!''

Arngrimr stood to face the Jarl of Viken ''He is weak and you know it...he is not even one of us, in appearance or blood...his mother was Frisian, and you saw how he allowed Beortwhine to enter his own hall and murder Ercwlf....he is weak!''

''Arngrimr...you yourself are a bastard, or do you forget it was I that raised you in Baalhuslen like my own son, Sturla may not be a warrior but his claim is true.'' Eskild responded.

''Some may call me a bastard...but I have norwegian blood running through my veins, besides on her deathbed my mother legitimized me, I am the first male grandchild of Frirek and have claim to the throne.'' Arngrimr said stubbornly.

Not quite Starkadr thought to himself, Ellisif had not truly legitimized Arngrimr, only confirmed his relation, but Starkadr chose to say nothing, he would not risk damaging his plan...a plan that had been prepared for years and had been given the firewood it needed to burn by Ellisifs confession.

''It does not feel right....slinking around in the dark, daggers in the night.'' Eskild Kolsson said reluctantly.

''Do you care so much for your soul Jarl...I know you are not a godly man...you raised me as a child....now raise me to the Kingship...it is my right.'' Arngrimr said, and Starkadr could tell that his words were moving the Jarl of Viken.

After a long silence Jarl Eskild finally nodded ''May Frirek forgive me, but I will support this plan and your right to the throne....but I will not be involved in planning the killing the King.''

Starkadr nodded, relieved ''Go to your home and await word of the Kings death, come to the Ting with a strong retinue....there will be others that are not here today that will suppourt us should it come to a war.''

Eskild nodded and without another word left the hall.

Starkadr then looked around at everyone else in the hall ''I am a humble man, and I would not dream of coming into a mans hall and taking the credit for what is to come, so I would give that honor to our leader, Gunnarr of Sogn, he shall have the honor of leading this plan.''

Many in the room looked shocked, but were probably smart enough to realize that it would be Starkadr pulling the strings and this was just a way to cover his tracks.

All in attendance began to leave, but Arngrimr remained, a somewhat suspicious look on his face.

''Why do you suppourt my claim Starkadr, you yourself are the son of King Eilif and have your own claim.'' Arngrimr said questioningly.

Starkadr chuckled and put a hand on Arngrimrs shoulder ''My dear Arngrimr, my time to rule has passed, I am your elder and even if I gained the throne I would not have it for long....I wish only to serve the rightful King.''

Arngrimr nodded ''When I ascend to my throne I shall reward you for this, I will need strong men I can trust to follow me.''

Starkadr nodded, and Arngrimr left the hall to journey back to his lands.

Damned fool Starkadr watched as he left, his smile disapearing and his face growing serious.

He cared nothing for Arngrimrs claim, and this was all a ploy.

When all had gone, with the exception of Gunnarr of Sogn who sat in his throne sleeping, Starkadr called one of his spies whom he had brought with them.

''Go north to the Queen Skuld in Audunborg, meet with her discreetly and tell her that there is a plot led by Gunnarr of Sogn, Arngrimr of Ostergotland, Eskild Frireksson, Eskild Kolsson, the Jarl Barid of Soreyar and others to kill Sturla when he lands after returning from Iceland, do not tell her who sent you.'' Starkadr said and the spy bowed and scurried off.

Starkadr smiled as he looked into the fire, with luck this would start a civil war, and he would be able to strike against whatever weakened faction held the throne and take it for himself.

 

[Bullfilter]

Snakes, rebels, madmen, traitors, would-be murderers ... Sturla is about to have his hands even fuller than before.

 

[stnylan]

A perfect storm approaches the realm.

 

[terr0rizm]

Norway is turning quite Byzantine lately. Ingenious thinking by Starkadr - I'm curious how Sturla is planning to get this under control.

 

[streaker77]

Snakes, rebels, madmen, traitors, would-be murderers ... Sturla is about to have his hands even fuller than before.

It will be quite a surprise for Sturla to return to, especially given his ineptitude in the realm of intrigue.

A perfect storm approaches the realm.

It would seem so, but unfortunately I wrote this before I actually played the aftermath and forgot about the limits of ck2 plots and punishment so it may be a little anti-climactic, but hopefully still interesting.

Norway is turning quite Byzantine lately. Ingenious thinking by Starkadr - I'm curious how Sturla is planning to get this under control.

Its becoming a different age from the fierce Vikings of the past and the vassals realize that getting ahead will require more than just millitary prowess, Starkadr is a genius and is the complete opposite of Sturla in regards to intrigue, but even he will not be able to forsee everything.

-One of my biggest regrets about this AAR is that the Folkung Clan has grown pretty large(around 250 members as of now) and since I did not put on the option of more non-epidemic diseases, lifespans have been pretty long and there has never been a whole lot of importance of NEEDING an heir since the family is so big, but I have recently found out that by editing the save-file it is possible to turn on more non-epedemic diseases(which I have experemented with in another playthough and it is muchmore difficult) so hopefully that will thin out the herd a little and make the family smaller in future generations and present more of a challenge though I wish I had done it earlier since the clan is already had around 250 living members.

 

[streaker77]

Rise of the Folkungs Chapter 219
Mid-June, 1075, Coast of Forde

King Sturla layed back against some fur bundles as his longship cut through the clear waters of the north sea. It was a fine day, hot and cloudless but a pleasant breeze on the air as his longship Vannulv, The Water Wolf, rode the slight waves. She was a small ship, but the King had not brought a large guard to Iceland, preferring speed over the complexeties of organizing a large force due to him wanting to return before his eldest daughter Karin departed for her wedding to the Count Iliiud of Devon, a powerful Cornish land-holder who would prove a valuable ally in countering England and in Sturlas ambitions to connect Powys to the coast, which had already been set in motion by his chancellor Gunnarr of Dublin fabricating a claim on the county of Ceredigion, the site of the battle where he had fought his nephew Beortwhine.

It had been quite simple to prevent bloodshed in Iceland, when Sturla saw that the Saxon leader, an arrogant man called Widikund had raised a force of 3000 men and women, the King was willing to give in to their demands for independence rather than deal with the task of transporting an army across the sea to the desolate province of Nordland. To make matters easier Nordland was owned by his wifes sister Sigrid, wife of Svarti and someone who Sturla strongly believed to have been involved in starting a war some years prior by murdering a local nobleman, he knew his wife Queen Skuld would not be pleased but he would not subject hundreds of his warriors to death over such a desolate area with only one fortress owned by a traitorous snake.

His meeting with Widikund had been unpleasant, the man clearly thinking himself a great conqueror who had bested the King of Norway but Sturla held his annoyance in check and it was a simple negotiation to establish borders.

Suddenly Bersi av Selanger, a former household warrior of Eskild Kolsson who had served Sturla as a trusted commander of his household guard ever since the battle in Cerdigion stood up and held a hand over his eyes to combat the sun.

''What?'' Sturla asked, his thinking shaken.

''There is a man on the shore.'' The clear-eyed Bersi said, pointing.

It took Sturla a moment to see it, but sure enough there was a warrior slightly crouched on the shore, dressed in mail, helm and carrying a spear and shield, his cloak identifying him as a Folkung huskarl from the kings castle in Audunborg.

As they got closer, the man stood and desperately gestured behind them, wildly pointing and flailing his spear, but the man was silent for some odd reason.

''Whats going on?'' The King asked after looking behind them and seeing nothing.

''I dont know, but I dont like it...better get the lads ready just in case....somethings not right'' Bersi said with some confusion and he ordered half of the 40 man crew to don their weapons and mail while the other half stayed at the oars and brought Vannulv close to the shore, sailing past the warrior until he grew out of sight.

After a few moments the Vannulv hit the sandy shores of Forde, this particular beach was not often used as a mooring for incoming ships, Fildir village was used for that, but this beach was commonly used as a shortcut for warbands returning to Norway.

Bersi was still unnerved from their encounter with the warrior on the shore and he ordered the armed half of the crew to disembark first and tie down the ship, which they did without issue. When it was clear, he signaled for the huskarl rowers and Sturla to follow.

''Must have been a drunk guard on patrol.'' Sturla said dissaprovingly and Bersi nodded in deference.

The crew had all disembarked by now, and many were stretching on the beach. One unarmored huskarl, a bulky blonde rower by the name of Torbens was relieving himself when suddenly a javelin struck him in his neck, Torbens managed only a gurgle as he fell to his knees, shock in his eyes.

Sturla looked at him in horror, scarcely believing what he was seeing, but they did not have long to process it as there were shouts from all directions as men charged the crew from all directions, clad in furs and leather and wielding spears and bearded axes.

''SHIELDWALL.....SHIELDS TO THE FRONT!'' Bersi shouted, quickly gaining his composure as the armed men swarmed onto the beach.

''We are surrounded!'' Sturla cried in shock, as he fumbled for a weapon only to realize he had left it on the ship.

''Take this and stay here!'' Bersi said grimly, handing Sturla Torbens two handed ax, which was far to heavy for the King to wield effectively. Before the King could protest, Bersi ran to join the twenty armed men in the shieldwall.

They were in a bad spot, only half of the 40 man crew was armored and armed, and the enemy had completely surrounded them with at least 60 or 70 men, leaving them with no where to flee but the ocean.

A few of the unarmed rowers tried to make it back onto the ship to retrieve their weapons and shields, but a few enemy longbowmen on the rocks above loosed a volley on them, killing two and wounding several, one arrow just missing the Kings shoulder.

The fighting at the front was fierce, his huskarls were well trained and equipped, but they were outnumbered by at least twice their number, he saw Bersi av Selanger hack down several of the enemy but more took their place.

Sturla readied his ax, and took a deep breath, preparing to defend his unarmed comrades beside him when the shield-wall was broken I will die alongside my men

Sturla Frireksson would not die that day however, there was a change in the wind, the sound of incoming hooves.

All briefly stopped to look behind them, and what the bandits saw must have chilled them to the very bone.

At least 250 horseman came thundering down the sandy slope, in a sea of blue and red, the white eagle of the Folkungs on their shields, all carrying spears. The enemy archers were the first to die, trampled and cut down within seconds.

The slaughter then continued down on the beach, the brigands were ill-prepared to deal with a cavalry charge from behind, especially from such numbers and the attackers tried to flee, dropping their weapons and running into the sea, many of them being cut down, before the horseman secured the beach, trapping around 15 survivors, who huddled together. Around 70 men lay dead on the beach, near 60 of the bandits, 6 of Sturlas men, including poor Torbens, and around four light horseman.

Only when it was over did the King drop the long-ax, his arms burning with fatigue.

It was then that two horseman rode towards him, one of them was his marshal Jarl Gudfrid Kolsson, whos face was grim and taut, beside him however was a much more surprising figure. His wife, Skuld was there mounted on a warhorse, dressed in mail and holding a blade at her side, which was streaked with blood.

''Skuld.....what are you doing here....what...what has happened!'' Sturla exclaimed as Bersi av Selanger joined them, his hair covered in blood and gore but unharmed.

''I was made aware of a plot to kill you as you landed some weeks ago....so I mustered half of Audunborgs cavalry and rode here to assist you.'' Skuld said, seemingly unfazed by the bloodshed that had occured only moments before.

''Why let them attack....you had plenty of men to drive them off before we landed, I lost several good men in this ambush!'' Sturla said, his voice coming out harsher than he meant too.

''And I am sorry for that, but they attacked from multiple directions, If I had attempted to drive them off, the other bands would flee, this was the only way to ensure we could capture all of them, we need prisoners to confirm my source, and I knew you could handle yourselves...and I had a man on the shore to try and warn you.'' The Queen said, bowing her head.

Before the King could respond, Jarl Gudfrid dismounted and without a word made his way over to the surviving bandits.

He grabbed one of them, a long haired man by his hair and pulled him close.

''My brother....Eskild Kolsson!'' Gudfrid said, a furious venom in his voice.

''Lord I dont..'' The man began, but Gudfrid pushed him back and delivered a fearsome backhand to the mans face, knocking him to the ground in a heap.

''H..He was one of the lords involved.....he was!'' The bandit said with a panic, spitting both blood and teeth onto the sand.

Gudfrid roared in anger and kicked the poor man in the face, breaking his nose before walking away from the beach.

''Eskild.....surely not....he was one of my fathers most trusted men, hes served the realm for decades, he led my armies in Wales and the crusade in Africa!'' Sturla said with shock.

Skuld looked grim ''Im afraid it is true, and not just him....Gunnarr of Sogn, your brother Eskild, Arngrimr of Ostergotland, the Jarl of Soreyar, the chiefs of Sunamaere and Gundusbradalen....it appears they meant to kill you and install Arngrimr as King at the Ting before your brother Viddar could be elected......I had a messenger tel me this some weeks ago....he slunk back into the night before I could question him on who sent him.

''Was Starkadr Eilifsson involved, my father always said he was trouble.'' Sturla asked, he was no man of intrigue but he knew the last legitimate son of the saintly King harbored designs to become King one day.

''I had thought the same thing...but he could not have....Starkadr is dead Sturla, died in his sleep.'' Skuld explained.

Sturla nodded, his mind shaken by how many men had betrayed him, he was not surprised by the like of his brother Eskild and his bastard nephew Arngrimr, but old Gunnarr of Sogn and Eskild Kolsson?

''What do we do with them?'' Bersi asked, nodding to the 15 surviving bandits.

''Them? Cut their throats and be done with it!'' The Queen said nonchalantly.

''With all due respect Lady Skuld I was asking the King.'' Bersi said, bowing his head.

''There has been enough death today.'' Sturla said unconvincingly, but he knew what must be done.

''Husband.....'' Skuld said, surprisingly gentle, her meaning all too clear.

''Have them....Have them killed.....quickly....but not him.'' Sturla said, nodding at the man that Gudfrid had knocked out.

''Why not!'' Skuld asked.

''I will not have it said I butchered an unconscious man.....It is not..it is not honorable.'' Sturla said.

''There is no honor in any of this husband.'' Skuld said, but offered no more opposition before riding away.

The King made himself watch as all 14 men were lined up and beheaded, their blood turning the sea a dark red. He did not look away, he would not sentence them to their deaths, deserved as they were and go and hide from the consequences of his decision.

He watched as the last man was pushed forward, his pleas ignored and his head taken, and when it was done he silently mounted a horse, ordered the dead to be taken care of, and rode back to Audunborg, knowing full well there was still work to be done before justice was served.

 

[stnylan]

Sturla has far too many scruples to be a well respected King in this culture, even if he may sometime be well liked. One can imagine the tide of blood that would have occurred should one of his ancestoers had tumbled on such a plot. For him, a definite learning experience.

 

[Bullfilter]

That could have been far worse - and Starkadr dead? Now that is very convenient. Will the rest of the plotters be so easily dealt with? Perhaps not.

 

[terr0rizm]

Hopefully Sturla will learn from this occasion. He will have to adapt rather quickly if he wants to stay alive and in power.

 

[streaker77]

Sturla has far too many scruples to be a well respected King in this culture, even if he may sometime be well liked. One can imagine the tide of blood that would have occurred should one of his ancestoers had tumbled on such a plot. For him, a definite learning experience.

Unfortunately, even if he was a more brutal King he would be held back by ck2s punishment logic, which will strike again in the following chapter.

That could have been far worse - and Starkadr dead? Now that is very convenient. Will the rest of the plotters be so easily dealt with? Perhaps not.

Yeah it was very good luck for Starkadr to drop dead, he had caused problems for decades...and he wont be the last powerful vassal to die in the short term.

Hopefully Sturla will learn from this occasion. He will have to adapt rather quickly if he wants to stay alive and in power.

Between the murder of Ercwlf and this, he is slowly beginning to see what it takes, hopefully that could be seen a little in his decision to execute the assasins, but he still has a long way to go.

 

[streaker77]

Rise of the Folkungs Chapter 220
Mid-July, 1075, Audunborg Keep, Forde

The King sat in his throne, staring at the small crowd of nobles, chiefs and Jarls standing before him, talking amongst themselves while several of the Kings huskarls watched them suspiciously.

He was flanked to the left by his marshal, Jarl Gudfrid Kolsson, who had a grimace on his face, no doubt due to the fact that his brother Eskild was one of the traitors in the hall. To the Kings right was Bersi av Selanger, the new baron of Trondheim. In truth he was not a baron yet, the borg was not yet built, but the King had given him the title ahead of time due to his commanders bravery at the beach of Forde, Trondheim was not located in the Kings own demense, but instead to the north in Nidaros, his vassals land but as King he had the right to build where he wished and he wanted to have a loyal man to the north.

His wife the Queen Skuld was not there, as evidenced by the empty chair near his. She was away in Uleaborg to witness the funeral of her brother Jarl Vegeirr of Kola. Sturla was not overly saddened by his death, the whole reason he had been married to Skuld was to stop Jarl Vegeirrs plots against his fathers throne, and Sturla always found himself intimidated by the man. He had his doubts about the new Jarl of Kola, Dagfinn Vegeirrsson, the lad who had been tricked by Svarti, but the King had already decided that he would give the young jarl a fresh slate...he would need another commander after what was about to happen.

''Sire....I would suggest we begin soon.'' Baron Bersi said in a whisper and Sturla nodded, and looked to his brother and steward Viddar to begin the proceedings.

The King was extremely limited in what he could do to those involved in planning his killing. Despite the damning evidence and confessions that tied them to the ambush at the beach, the rest of his vassals had made their position quite clear when it was revealed who was involved....they would not stand for the King imprisoning well over half a dozen vassals, an act which would severely increase his own power.

Instead a compromise had to be worked out, in exchange for leniency, those involved would come to the Kings court, admit their guilt and formally request his mercy, which of course he had to give whether he liked it or not. Sturla had been willing to go along with it, he did feel that those involved deserved something more for their crimes, a fine, the giving of hostages, or time in house arrest, but he knew if he moved against a half dozen vassals his other vassals would see him as a tyrant that would unbalance the realm.

His elder brother Eskild went first, saying a well scripted line he had no doubt been instructed to preform, admitting his guilt and regret and asking for the Kings mercy. Sturla almost felt sorry for him, his brothers brown hair was long and ragged, and his beard was unkempt, and his eyes looked tired....he was a broken man...far different than the one that had beaten Sturla as a child for interrupting prayers.

Upon the conclusion of this, Sturla nodded and pardoned his brother for his crimes, and Eskild walked away, mumbling incoherently to himself.

He is truly mad Sturla thought to himself, and to his surprise he did not feel anger...just indifference...his brother was harmless and posed little threat now.

The one-legged chief Erik of Rogaland went next, followed by the weak and potbellied Suni of Gudbransdalen, both minor men of little import whom Sturla had never met and had little idea of why they would want him dead.

The Jarl Barid of Soreyar had come to beg the Kings mercy next, though it did not go well. Jarl Barid was almost as mad as the Kings brother, and halfway through his speech had begun frothing at the mouth like an animal and screaming to be released before he was dragged off by one of his retainers where he would return back to Soreyar with no argument from the King.

''A strange collection of men.'' Bersi said solemnly.

The most formidable of those involved in the plot went last, Sturlas bastard nephew Arngrimr of Ostergotland and Jarl Eskild Kolsson of Baalhuslen, two renowned warriors.

''Eskild Kolsson approach the throne.'' Viddar said simply and the Jarl of Baalhuslen walked slowly forward.

Sturla felt a twinge of regret and almost wanted to pardon him on the spot, the Jarl Eskild looked like a shamed wounded animal.

He tried to kill me, I am still being merciful Sturla reminded himself.

''Do you admit your complicity in this plot against my life Eskild Kolsson.'' The King said grimly.

''I do.'' Eskild said simply, and Gudfrid flinched slightly.

''Why....Why Eskild, you have served the throne for decades!'' Sturla said, for the first time breaking the monotonous and generic responses.

''I listened to a snake....like the one the priests are always rambling on about....Starkad..'' Eskild began, talking quietly but not averting his gaze.

''STARKADR IS DEAD DAMNIT, WE WILL HEAR NONE OF YOUR EXCUSES!'' Gudfrid Kolsson shouted at his younger brother, a look of anguish upon his face.

Eskild Kolsson said nothing, and look to the ground.

''I have agreed to give pardon all those involved in this plot against my life, provided they admit their involvement, and you have done so, you are free to leave to your home Eskild Kolsson.'' Sturla said in a tired voice.

''Thank you Sire.'' Eskild Kolsson said, and he turned to leave, but Sturla spoke before he left the hall.

''You are free to leave to Baalhuslen as I have said, but there you shall stay.....your services as commander are no longer required, I cannot have men such as you at my court.'' Sturla said with authority, though in truth it was very hard for him to say, despite the fact the man had tried to kill him, he had been one of his fathers steadfast comrades.

Eskild again said nothing, and nodded slightly, the old mighty warrior almost looking tiny in the light of the hall.

''You are my own blood.....but if you try anything like this again, I will meet you, sword in hand, and nothing will be able to save you!'' Gudfrid Kolsson snarled at his younger brother, and for a moment a flash of anger could be seen in the Jarl of Baalhuslens eyes, but he turned and left without a word.

The Kings bastard nephew Arngrimr was last, and Sturla did leave the scripted exchange this time, there was something in his sister Ellisifs son that unnerved him, not the mans powerful physic, it was more than that, there was a quiet and terrifying coldness in the mans blue eyes and the King almost shivered as the man left after being pardoned.

Suddenly, the King remembered someone that had escaped his notice.

''Where is Gunnarr of Sogn?'' He asked with confusion.

''I thought it best to tell you when this was done.....he refused to come to court so I sent some of our finest huskarls to Sogn, mounted and armed....but the gates were barred when they arrived and they were fired upon by arrows and javelins...none were killed but one lad took an arrow to the leg.'' Gudfrid said, almost absentmindedly, it was clear his mind was elsewhere.

''Damned fool!'' Sturla said with frustration.

Bersi nodded ''He is mad like the majority of those involved lord, he likely did not even understand what was happening.''

The King sighed, he had already been forced to miss his eldest daughter Karins wedding to the cornish count because of this business, and just when it seemed over, a dribbling old fool threatened to extend it.

''I want this uprising quelled.....leave the peasantry and the farmholds alone and untouched, take a warband and surround his castle....no need to assault it, starve them out, spare the garrisson and bring Gunnarr to me.'' Sturla ordered and Bersi and Gudfrid nodded.

Sturla reclined in his throne as the men left How did you deal with these men father...