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FulMetl
Meteorite
- Joined
- Dec 10, 2024
They'd spotted the shoreline of Anderland's exterior island chain just after dawn, but quickly lost it in the fog not an hour later. The sail was full of wind but was easily evening before they made landfall. Five days past had been a major landmark in his life. From that point and for every league they traveled past, marked the furthest south that Prince Radgardt had ever traveled. Pride filled him as he looked east and west, as there too was a landmark. Never in his life had so many vessels left his home port of Cad'Nordium, with the same destination.
Every summer since his father permitted, he and every man who called himself Viking and every shield maiden sailed the seas in search of new lands and new peoples. To judge them, by meeting them on the field of battle, just as the Alfather had taught them in the days of their forefathers. Instead of raiding enemies old and new, more than a hundred long ships filled with warriors and at least a dozen jarls, sailed south to witness him fulfill an engagement that his father pursued and secure an alliance through a marriage to a woman whose name he'd never been told.
"Don't look so sour. You meet a princess, you wed and bed her and you become the wealthiest man I've ever heard of."
Radgardt turned to regard his half-brother Olaf and despite his mood, he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. Radgardt envied him in that moment. Olaf's life had exactly three priorities; women, strong drink, getting to Valhalla and nearly always in that particular order. Suspiciously absent was his drive to please father. Radgardt chanced one last glance north. He knew he'd return there someday in some fashion or another. If not on his own two feet, then the ashes of his pyre would be carried beyond the gate. For now his place was in the south, with a bride he'd never cast his eyes on and all the politics that came with it.
"Pull!" Radgardt bellowed and paused for a breath before the next beat, "And pull!"
He'd chosen the largest of the exterior islands to dock his long ship. Partly because there was a structure built upon it and partly because he felt the need to keep distance from the Anderland ships, a few islands over. They were still securing their ships to the beach when his ears caught the sound of rapid foot falls approaching.
"You must be Prince Rayguard!" A female voice said excitedly.
"Uh." his nephew stammered.
Radgardt let a small chuckle loose as he finished pounding an iron stake into the ground. He might have marveled at the unique ascent that woman spoke with if his nephew's awkwardness wasn't on full display. The boy had only seen sixteen winters and seemed to be a late bloomer. He wasn't tall enough to stand in the shield wall and wasn't yet stout enough to help pull the longships up onto the beach. As Radgart's sword bearer, his old sister insist that her oldest child dress finely for the part.
"I am Prince Ulfgar. Prince Radgardt is my uncle."
He handed his mallet off and stepped out away from the boats.
"I am Prince Radgardt Gunnarson."
Her skin was darker than his, her ascent was unique to his ears and by his best guess she was several years older than him. Shocked by none of that, it was how she dressed that caught his attention. She wore a dress of fine purple fabric that nearly reached her ankles and supple leather sandals on her feet. Her wrists were adorned with silver bracelets and gold band sat atop her head, keeping her dark and swept back hair in place. Royals didn't fetch people and when they did, they offered their title and name first. She was a servant, the most well dressed servant he'd ever seen. He watched her head turn to regard him, then her head incline to meet his gaze and her lips parted as she saw him.
Radgardt had been on the receiving end of such a response before. Vikings were large people and by the standards of his people, Radgardt was considered tall. Working the forge, training with ulberht swords, and heavier than usual shields had blessed him with the size and power that his people had come to expect and that outsiders found intimidating. So, he smiled widely instead.
"What is your name?"
"I am Zyteema, honored servant of the royal household. You will come with me now and present yourself to the royal family. The king has permitted members of your personal retinue to accompany you."
She turned and began to walk toward the great hall not far from where they came ashore. Olaf turned and spat on the ground and Radgardt understood. Some of Zyteema's words had wiped the smile right off of his own face. He reached over and patted his younger one on the shoulder for some reassurance. Radgardt Gunnarson didn't need anyone's leave to have his family members accompany him. Nor did he need it to conduct his father's business, which is exactly what this was. He was a Viking, born a free man and if such necessity came to call, he'd die one.
At a distance the hall looked to be a heavy canvas tent, or that's the option Radgardt would have gone with. As Zyteema led them closer, it was a wooden structure trimmed and adorned in an artistic fashion that he'd never seen before. But the building style he had seen before. The doors were smaller but it was built in a similar style of his father's great hall in Cad'Nordium. He ducked to clear the frame but drew up to his full height once inside. Several strangers occupied the hall on the far end and the man in the high seat upon the dais could only be Anderland's king.
"I am Radgardt son of Gunnar, a prince of Cad'Nordium. I've come to answer the proposal made by my father and Sabir, king of Anderland." he stated.
"I am Sabir, King of Anderland. Hail and be welcome within my halls." the king proclaimed with outstretched arms.
It was a Viking greeting, he'd heard his father welcome others in the great hall in Cad'Nordium in exactly that same manner before. It was either a show, which were often times used as a distraction, or he was happy to have Radgardt in his lands. In the end he ignored the feelings that Zyteema's words had stirred up within him and accepted Sabir's hospitality. Radgardt strode forward with confidence and found a single table with a single chair. He sat and did a quick count of around thirty sets of eyes looking back at him.
"Your majesty," Radgardt began and noted Sabir's lips curling into a smile, "My retinue and I come far to be here. I was hoping for an opportunity to meet your dau-"
"Yes!" the king interjected, "However, there is another matter that needs to be cleared up before we can discuss anything regarding engagement."
"Did my father leave a task unattended in the agreement?" he asked.
"No. King Gunnar was most thorough. My problem lies with three is my Heskarl. A problem you and your great host could manage for me quite efficiently."
"Heskarl? I'm sorry, I don't have any context for that word." Radgardt admitted.
"In a letter your father wrote to me, he told your first real battle was the battle of York and the sacking of the great Saxon stronghold."
"Yes. We held the shield wall for many hours on that day." Radgardt admitted.
"A saxon baron," The king said, "owns and manages the land. They also serve as officers in my armies. An Anderland Heskarl serves much the same function in our society. These three Heskarls strongly disapprove of the husband I've chosen for my daughter."
Radgardt's eyes danced along the floor as he considered all his future good father had said.
"How many forts and holdfasts do they each control? And how many men have sworn them loyalty?" he asked.
"One each and no more than 500 in each holdfast." the king admitted.
"If my host can accomplish this, and I believe they can, I have no need for any additional titles beyond what I've already acquired. I will require the land and the incomes from the largest barony for a period of no more than five years. My host will, of course, keep any spoils acquired from the estates once we've sacked them." Radgardt offered.
"In Anderland," Sabir spat, "no one makes demands. Of. The king."
Radgardt felt his face redden as he leaned forward in his chair.
"And in my culture, a man does not reach an agreement, sign it, seal it, deliver it only to hold it captive. And. Demand. Deeds!"
Radgardt's attention was captured by one of the guardsmen that lined the room. Staring blankly ever forward until Radgardt had challenged the sovereign. He pulled up his shield and leveled his spear at Radgardt and that was all it took. He stood as his frightened but dutiful sword bearer leaned the handle forward for Radgardt to take.
"Fucking! Swine!" Olaf spat.
There was nothing in all the realm quite like a well oiled sword being dragged over leather. It was a blade forged by his own hands and it practically sang as he freed it from it's prison. Radgardt spun it in his hands twice, partly to loosen up for what came next and partly because he liked the sound it made when it cut the air, but it was all for naught. Impressed by the old man's speed, he watched. Sabir moved like a startled hare. One hand shoved the errant guardsman's spear away. The sound of flesh impacting flesh echoed throughout the hall. The guardsman's head whipped to the side on account of the stiff backhand he's just received from his king. Lines of blood welled up on the guardsman's face from the rings Sabir wore.
"GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!" he demanded "And never return."
Radgardt watched as a shield hit the floor and the guardsman sprinted out the back. Sabir walked slowly away shaking his head, spear in hand until he tossed it aside with some bluster.
"This was not how," the king muttered in complaint to no one in particular, "Werren Shes'Ta!"
One doesn't require a translator to figure that one out.
Radgardt was replacing steel into leather when a woman, the queen by how she was dressed and decorated approached.
"I'm sorry. This should not have happened." she offered.
"No! It should not have!" Olaf bellowed.
"Olaf." Radgardt warned before he turned his attention back to the queen, "And now that we are here?"
"You know the layout of this building well don't you?" she asked.
Radgardt nodded and she continued, "The small room on the side, where private audiences are held. I will dismiss everyone. Go there and I will arrange for you to meet your betrothed.
Every summer since his father permitted, he and every man who called himself Viking and every shield maiden sailed the seas in search of new lands and new peoples. To judge them, by meeting them on the field of battle, just as the Alfather had taught them in the days of their forefathers. Instead of raiding enemies old and new, more than a hundred long ships filled with warriors and at least a dozen jarls, sailed south to witness him fulfill an engagement that his father pursued and secure an alliance through a marriage to a woman whose name he'd never been told.
"Don't look so sour. You meet a princess, you wed and bed her and you become the wealthiest man I've ever heard of."
Radgardt turned to regard his half-brother Olaf and despite his mood, he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. Radgardt envied him in that moment. Olaf's life had exactly three priorities; women, strong drink, getting to Valhalla and nearly always in that particular order. Suspiciously absent was his drive to please father. Radgardt chanced one last glance north. He knew he'd return there someday in some fashion or another. If not on his own two feet, then the ashes of his pyre would be carried beyond the gate. For now his place was in the south, with a bride he'd never cast his eyes on and all the politics that came with it.
"Pull!" Radgardt bellowed and paused for a breath before the next beat, "And pull!"
He'd chosen the largest of the exterior islands to dock his long ship. Partly because there was a structure built upon it and partly because he felt the need to keep distance from the Anderland ships, a few islands over. They were still securing their ships to the beach when his ears caught the sound of rapid foot falls approaching.
"You must be Prince Rayguard!" A female voice said excitedly.
"Uh." his nephew stammered.
Radgardt let a small chuckle loose as he finished pounding an iron stake into the ground. He might have marveled at the unique ascent that woman spoke with if his nephew's awkwardness wasn't on full display. The boy had only seen sixteen winters and seemed to be a late bloomer. He wasn't tall enough to stand in the shield wall and wasn't yet stout enough to help pull the longships up onto the beach. As Radgart's sword bearer, his old sister insist that her oldest child dress finely for the part.
"I am Prince Ulfgar. Prince Radgardt is my uncle."
He handed his mallet off and stepped out away from the boats.
"I am Prince Radgardt Gunnarson."
Her skin was darker than his, her ascent was unique to his ears and by his best guess she was several years older than him. Shocked by none of that, it was how she dressed that caught his attention. She wore a dress of fine purple fabric that nearly reached her ankles and supple leather sandals on her feet. Her wrists were adorned with silver bracelets and gold band sat atop her head, keeping her dark and swept back hair in place. Royals didn't fetch people and when they did, they offered their title and name first. She was a servant, the most well dressed servant he'd ever seen. He watched her head turn to regard him, then her head incline to meet his gaze and her lips parted as she saw him.
Radgardt had been on the receiving end of such a response before. Vikings were large people and by the standards of his people, Radgardt was considered tall. Working the forge, training with ulberht swords, and heavier than usual shields had blessed him with the size and power that his people had come to expect and that outsiders found intimidating. So, he smiled widely instead.
"What is your name?"
"I am Zyteema, honored servant of the royal household. You will come with me now and present yourself to the royal family. The king has permitted members of your personal retinue to accompany you."
She turned and began to walk toward the great hall not far from where they came ashore. Olaf turned and spat on the ground and Radgardt understood. Some of Zyteema's words had wiped the smile right off of his own face. He reached over and patted his younger one on the shoulder for some reassurance. Radgardt Gunnarson didn't need anyone's leave to have his family members accompany him. Nor did he need it to conduct his father's business, which is exactly what this was. He was a Viking, born a free man and if such necessity came to call, he'd die one.
At a distance the hall looked to be a heavy canvas tent, or that's the option Radgardt would have gone with. As Zyteema led them closer, it was a wooden structure trimmed and adorned in an artistic fashion that he'd never seen before. But the building style he had seen before. The doors were smaller but it was built in a similar style of his father's great hall in Cad'Nordium. He ducked to clear the frame but drew up to his full height once inside. Several strangers occupied the hall on the far end and the man in the high seat upon the dais could only be Anderland's king.
"I am Radgardt son of Gunnar, a prince of Cad'Nordium. I've come to answer the proposal made by my father and Sabir, king of Anderland." he stated.
"I am Sabir, King of Anderland. Hail and be welcome within my halls." the king proclaimed with outstretched arms.
It was a Viking greeting, he'd heard his father welcome others in the great hall in Cad'Nordium in exactly that same manner before. It was either a show, which were often times used as a distraction, or he was happy to have Radgardt in his lands. In the end he ignored the feelings that Zyteema's words had stirred up within him and accepted Sabir's hospitality. Radgardt strode forward with confidence and found a single table with a single chair. He sat and did a quick count of around thirty sets of eyes looking back at him.
"Your majesty," Radgardt began and noted Sabir's lips curling into a smile, "My retinue and I come far to be here. I was hoping for an opportunity to meet your dau-"
"Yes!" the king interjected, "However, there is another matter that needs to be cleared up before we can discuss anything regarding engagement."
"Did my father leave a task unattended in the agreement?" he asked.
"No. King Gunnar was most thorough. My problem lies with three is my Heskarl. A problem you and your great host could manage for me quite efficiently."
"Heskarl? I'm sorry, I don't have any context for that word." Radgardt admitted.
"In a letter your father wrote to me, he told your first real battle was the battle of York and the sacking of the great Saxon stronghold."
"Yes. We held the shield wall for many hours on that day." Radgardt admitted.
"A saxon baron," The king said, "owns and manages the land. They also serve as officers in my armies. An Anderland Heskarl serves much the same function in our society. These three Heskarls strongly disapprove of the husband I've chosen for my daughter."
Radgardt's eyes danced along the floor as he considered all his future good father had said.
"How many forts and holdfasts do they each control? And how many men have sworn them loyalty?" he asked.
"One each and no more than 500 in each holdfast." the king admitted.
"If my host can accomplish this, and I believe they can, I have no need for any additional titles beyond what I've already acquired. I will require the land and the incomes from the largest barony for a period of no more than five years. My host will, of course, keep any spoils acquired from the estates once we've sacked them." Radgardt offered.
"In Anderland," Sabir spat, "no one makes demands. Of. The king."
Radgardt felt his face redden as he leaned forward in his chair.
"And in my culture, a man does not reach an agreement, sign it, seal it, deliver it only to hold it captive. And. Demand. Deeds!"
Radgardt's attention was captured by one of the guardsmen that lined the room. Staring blankly ever forward until Radgardt had challenged the sovereign. He pulled up his shield and leveled his spear at Radgardt and that was all it took. He stood as his frightened but dutiful sword bearer leaned the handle forward for Radgardt to take.
"Fucking! Swine!" Olaf spat.
There was nothing in all the realm quite like a well oiled sword being dragged over leather. It was a blade forged by his own hands and it practically sang as he freed it from it's prison. Radgardt spun it in his hands twice, partly to loosen up for what came next and partly because he liked the sound it made when it cut the air, but it was all for naught. Impressed by the old man's speed, he watched. Sabir moved like a startled hare. One hand shoved the errant guardsman's spear away. The sound of flesh impacting flesh echoed throughout the hall. The guardsman's head whipped to the side on account of the stiff backhand he's just received from his king. Lines of blood welled up on the guardsman's face from the rings Sabir wore.
"GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!" he demanded "And never return."
Radgardt watched as a shield hit the floor and the guardsman sprinted out the back. Sabir walked slowly away shaking his head, spear in hand until he tossed it aside with some bluster.
"This was not how," the king muttered in complaint to no one in particular, "Werren Shes'Ta!"
One doesn't require a translator to figure that one out.
Radgardt was replacing steel into leather when a woman, the queen by how she was dressed and decorated approached.
"I'm sorry. This should not have happened." she offered.
"No! It should not have!" Olaf bellowed.
"Olaf." Radgardt warned before he turned his attention back to the queen, "And now that we are here?"
"You know the layout of this building well don't you?" she asked.
Radgardt nodded and she continued, "The small room on the side, where private audiences are held. I will dismiss everyone. Go there and I will arrange for you to meet your betrothed.