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Anno Domini 826, july 16-24
I stood watching as more ships appeared in the area, somewhat surprised. I had expected a couple of vessels, not this many.
The Varangians stared at us for a long time, until I noticed familiar figures approaching from the sea.
"BASIL!" Hakon shouted, spreading his arms wide. "Quite a welcome. I was expecting something warmer—and with a lot less metal," he said with a laugh.
"Well, having that many ships show up puts everyone on alert, especially when there was a pirate attack not long ago," I replied, looking at him with a slight smile.
"I see… when…?" Hakon said as his ship docked and his men began moving crates.
"The same day you left. They hit us hard… partly because I made a mistake, but I learned from it. Now I know what I should have done. I hope the journey was more pleasant than the last one," I said, smiling as I extended my hand to help him down.
"Looks like I missed a good fight," he said, taking my hand and stepping off the ship while watching his men unload crates. "And yes, the voyage was calmer. With more men on the crossing, things were much more peaceful. Come, look… I brought you a gift," he added, pointing to a woman gagged and with her arms bound.
"Looks like you paid someone a visit," I said, smiling as I realized they were captives from a raid.
"We paid a visit to the bastards who sold me into slavery. This time with many of my own at my back. We razed the entire village," Hakon said with evident pride.
"Good to know. I appreciate the gift, but I don't have space for slaves right now. I assume you'll need hands… for all of them," I said, looking at the ships behind him.
"Yes… well, at first I began telling everyone in my village about the offer you made. I thought that might tempt a few because of the fertile land and the pleasant climate here. But when I started visiting the local jarls to sell your armor and swords, things changed. Between mug and mug of mjöd, I talked about how you offered land to anyone who killed your enemies, and well… between selling your armor at a high price and saying you were one of the finest smiths in Miklagarðr, many farmers and fishermen liked the idea of land in exchange for fighting. Believe me, even if they don't look like it, many of them know how to fight very well," Hakon said.
"About eight hundred… I know they look like more, but that's because they're captives from our detention in the Rus," Hakon added.
"Eight hundred," I repeated. "And how many of them can fight? Without stripping away too many hands willing to work… they arrived too late for planting, so farming would be difficult for them right now," I said thoughtfully.
"We can always use fishing nets and focus on fishing. The waters here are much calmer, so there shouldn't be any problems. They can also use the bow. I'd say about a hundred could join you anywhere," Hakon said after thinking.
"A hundred Varangians… good. That's perfect. Let them choose who will serve me and have them come to my smithy. I'll make fitted armor for them," I said, pleased.
"Good, good… speaking of that," he said, pointing to the chests and crates he had brought.
"Someone before me was selling military equipment, and he sold everything. The jarls and their warriors spent all their gold and silver reserves to equip themselves, and after I arrived with a large batch of armor, it didn't take me long to sell it all. The other merchant left all the groundwork done. I gathered a lot of coin… though it's from many places—Frankish coins, Rus coins, silver ingots, small gold bars, and some of your Roman coins. I hope you understand it's hard to get exactly what you asked for when there's no one minting coins, except through raiding," Hakon said.
"That's fine. I already know someone at the mint in Constantinople. I can sell the gold and silver directly and they'll pay by weight. I'll get less, but that's irrelevant. Hakon, tell your people to follow me. The ships will be guarded by my sailors," I said as I started walking toward my settlement.
Without delay, the Varangians began unloading their ships, bringing out hand-drawn carts, loading all their belongings and materials, and then followed us, watching everything around them. I noticed many of them genuinely liked the climate, standing with their eyes closed, enjoying the warm rays of the sun.
Once we reached the settlement, I began assigning plots of land that were still unoccupied, giving them to the Varangian families, calculating how much more land I would need to purchase from the state so they could be properly settled around the lake near my lands. In any case, once the Varangians were settled, I would handle the formalities by speaking with the city's kentarchos and buying more land when there was time.
Without wasting time, I contacted Stephanos, who had been working on my mansion all this time, pushing it to the legal limit of what could be considered a semi-fortified settlement, building something as close to a kastron as the law allowed.
I also contacted local merchants to obtain construction materials and began sending them to the Varangians so they could settle properly.
While that was happening, a group of Varangians arrived. There was no single age group: some were very young, barely with a trace of facial hair, others already had hair losing its color. But all of them looked strong and powerfully built compared to the Byzantine peasant, who was usually strong, but lean and wiry.
So a large part of the work in the forge began to be devoted to making custom-fitted armor, rather than producing armor in bulk with standardized sizes.
Quickly, taking measurements and making use of the large amount of material we already had stored, production began immediately. We started forging tailored mail hauberks and brigandines, as well as protection for the face and legs. We also began using the steel mask that attached to the helmet, as it had finally proven its worth when a stray arrow struck the face: with mail it could lodge itself, but with the mask it either bounced harmlessly away or was deflected.
While I was taking measurements from the Varangians to make them the best armor possible, Hakon appeared, personally bringing someone with him.
"Basil… I won't be staying here long. I have trade to conduct and a family to convince to come, but to show you that I'm grateful for your trust and for the help you gave me…" he said after letting out a short breath. "My son, Sigurd. This is proof that I will never raise steel against you, for my own blood would be spilled if I ever betrayed you," Hakon said, presenting his son to me.
He had a small, well-kept beard on his chin and sideburns, and hair somewhere between blond and light brown, braided in the usual fashion. Hakon's son was very tall and powerfully built.
"Oh… uh… thank you. I trust your words and your oaths. I know how important they are in your culture, especially since you swore before the All-Father, so I never doubted your word," I replied calmly as I picked up the measuring cord.
"Greetings, honorable—" Sigurd said, glancing at his father. "Jarl?"
"Kapetanios… that's what everyone calls me," I said. "Does he speak Greek?" I asked, looking at Hakon.
"A little. I taught him on the way. My firstborn speaks your tongue, Roman, but he stayed in Svea Rike with his other brothers. I claimed this one, because of all my sons I consider Sigurd the bravest, and he will serve you well, bringing me pride and honor," Hakon said.
"Good… then I'll make sure to forge for him the best weapons and armor my skills allow," I said, already thinking about what I could make for Sigurd.
"Thank you… I'll take care of building a house for my family and then return to Svea Rike to bring them here. Many didn't want to come because we had nowhere to live, and my wife is no longer in her best condition to endure harsh weather, so we must take every precaution," Hakon said, giving his son a firm pat before walking toward the land I had assigned him.
"Your mother is ill, then?" I asked, interested.
"My mother is fine… my father's wife is ill. I was born from one of his concubines," Sigurd said seriously.
"I see… well then, Sigurd, open your arms… what do you think of the Roman realm?" I asked while measuring his arms and torso.
"Warm…" he said, looking up at the sky. "But in a good way. It's pleasant not having to wear layer upon layer of furs just to keep from freezing. The waters are calm… and the people seem harmless," he added, glancing at my workers.
"They are… there are many rules here to prevent people from defending themselves. If you weren't working for me, you wouldn't even be allowed to carry a sword," I replied while measuring his legs.
"But… having enemies everywhere… isn't that counterproductive?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes… I thought the same. But the Autokrator fears rebellion more than external enemies. Let's just say that of all the Autokrators there have been, almost all faced a rebellion that tested them, and they fear being overthrown more than anything else," I replied, writing down Sigurd's measurements.
"You Romans are strange," Sigurd said.
"Yes… we are. All right, I have your measurements. You can go if you wish," I said as I began preparing everything for his armor.
"My father asked me to watch you at all times… like a hird," Sigurd said.
"Oh, like a húskarl? I see… listen, I don't need a bodyguard right now. Besides… I hope your father told you how good I am at fighting," I said with a smile.
"He spoke of what a good warrior you are… that you fight strangely, confuse everyone with your movements, and end up doing odd things and your enemies end up on the ground," Sigurd said.
"Good to hear. Go train, then. It never hurts. I'm safe here, among my warriors. Go without worry—when this is ready, you'll have the finest armor in all of Rome. It's the only way I can repay the trust your father has placed in me," I said as I began sketching.
"Thank you, kape… kapetas," Sigurd said, bowing his head slightly before heading off to the training grounds.
With the measurements in hand, I passed them to my workers so they could begin the brigandine and mail, while—with the help of the most experienced smiths—we worked on the most difficult parts, namely shaping the steel plates. We had to make pauldrons, forearm guards, gauntlets, greaves, and a flexible defense for the boots. Instead of the usual gorget, I chose something more advanced, even if it took longer, and began crafting a bevor, which would provide superior protection for the neck and part of the face, combined with a kettel helmet and a mail face. With all of that, plus the standard padded gambeson, Hakon's son would be a damn tank, nearly impossible to pierce.
And to top it all off, a pole hammer—because with so much armor, he wouldn't need a shield. Almost any arrow that struck him would glance off or bounce away, and the same went for swords, so a weapon that allowed him to put all his physical power to use was ideal.
For a full week, dozens of my smiths worked to create the best set of armor possible, dividing the labor carefully to ensure nothing was left wanting. And just as we were testing the finished armor, a rider arrived.
"Kapetanios… you have orders from the strategos to head north. The Bulgarians are launching a major incursion, and we need as many men as possible in the north," the rider said, handing me a sealed letter.
"Fucking Bulgarians…" I muttered, looking at Sigurd's armor. "But it will be interesting to test our Varangians in battle," I added with a grin.
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If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know.
Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.
I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.
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