Well that was a surprise, but an opportunity well handled. Nice to see Sigurd react so well and quickly.
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It would have been funny had he led on the flank and then you had chosen the direct leader. But unyielding works pretty well, all things considered.
And his malaise went away. That was fortunate.
And his malaise went away. That was fortunate.
When it happened, I was as surprised as one can be reading the story. The enemy troops popped directly on my own, with full morale.
Sigurd managed to turn it into a victory, but he would have certainly preferred for those troops to not exist at all.
Choosing direct leader after this battle wouldn't have made much sense, considering how the trait works. I chose unyielding because of those famous morale issues when dealing with Telemark, but it happens to mesh well with the character's development.
Having the malaise going away was a true relief, as some serious illness would have brought not only a serious death risk, but also would have assuredly weakened the army's strength . By the way, at this point in the story, Fairhair is still in a poor state because of his infected wound which doesn't want to heal.
First Arc - Chapter 43 - February 874
Chapter XLIII
February 874 – Akhershus, Norway
After his victory in the valley linking the Oyren and the Oslofjord, Sigurd had moved his army west and laid siege to Fairhair’s capital.
Once again, he adopted a slow but prudent approach, refusing a direct assault in a ground where the enemy had the time to prepare itself.
However, waiting for the enemy’s stockpile to run out was out of question. Norse had since immemorial time made reserves for the winter, and while it sometimes happened that bad harvests led to insufficient food – Sigurd was well aware of it, as such a situation had led to his own story –, it remained the exception.
Instead, while surrounding the village to entrap its defenders and cut their links with the outside, he had ordered the construction of a tunnel towards the village. This proved harder than expected. He had tried to use some of his warriors, but had quickly renounced faced with their rejection of such a work. Instead, the prisoners previously captured were used as a forced labour. An early trial had to be abandoned after water infiltration issues proved greater than expected. And finally, shovelling from a patch of woods in the north-east to behind the enemy’s fences, to get a wood-reinforced tunnel large enough for an effective surprise attack, was slow. Progressing several meters a day, it would be more than a month before its eventual completion.
At this moment, however, the chief didn’t care.
“I feel that our baby will soon come out”, said Ingibjörg, laying on her side.
Sigurd was embarrassed. A siege camp was not a great place for a woman to be, and even less for a pregnant woman. His wife only had her thrall servant, who by her admission had never helped to deliver a baby.
If I went out to find a midwife, the first capable woman I’d find in this camp would be some prostitute selling her body to my warriors, thought the chief, frowning.
“You’re not happy of it ?”, asked his wife in a surprised voice.
“Of course I’m happy”, answered Sigurd, before kissing her round belly. “But this is not a proper place to give birth… I want you to give birth as safely as possible, with an experienced midwife to assist you and help you.”
“You still care a little about me.”
“Dear wife… I always cared about you.”
“You have been colder than before lately.”
“Think of what you’d feel if I lost your soon-to-be-born baby to Faihair. This is not easy to overcome. But hopefully, we will put it right back.”
She didn’t dare to answer.
“I’ll go outside, I’ll be back later.”
He went out of his tent, and went to find Thorolfr, who was overseeing the siege. He had experience in taking over new territories and making sure that besieged settlements were indeed cut out of the outside world, so Sigurd didn’t feel the need to personally manage every detail.
“Nothing has happened, my lord”, said the commandant when he saw Sigurd approaching.
“Good. That means we can send our mounted troops on a mission.”
“A mission ?”
“I need them to search the land around, to find a midwife and a suitable place for my wife to give birth.”
Thorolfr raised his brow in surprise.
“Maybe we should storm the town. This would put an end to this tunnelling and your wife could give birth in Fairhair’s house.”
Sigurd smiled.
“I think we’ll stick to the plan.”
A good chunk of horsemen were involved in scouting and foraging operations, but some were resting at the camp. They were sent away.
Two hours later, by the middle of the afternoon, one group of cavaliers came back, its leader holding against him, on his horse, a visibly afraid woman, who had long brown hair and was maybe thirty years-old.
“We have found your midwife, chief”, he said while approaching Sigurd’s position.
“I hope you didn’t damage her.”
“Don’t worry, chief, she’s very fresh”, answered the cavalier. “Aren’t you ?”, he asked her with a sly grin, and talking in her ear : “When you’re finished with the chief, you know where to find us.”
“Enough.”
The woman was put on the ground, and Sigurd indicated her to follow him with a hand gesture. Afraid, she obeyed.
“You are a midwife, I am told. Is that correct ?”
She kept following but didn’t answer.
“Are you unable to speak ?”
“No…”, she said with a weak voice.
“Then answer my question.”
“I don’t know how I should call you.”
“Whatever. Answer.”
“I… I have helped mothers to give birth…”
“Good. And don’t be afraid, I won’t harm you.”
This was hardly a relief for her considering the others who might hurt her.
“What… What do you want me for ?”, she dared to ask.
“Helping a woman to give birth, of course. Why else do you think I’d ask you about this ?”
They had reached the chief’s tent, and the woman was spared from having to answer this question.
“Come in”, said Sigurd.
Once she was in, he showed her Ingibjörg, who was laying on her side, her huge round belly obvious at first glance.
“She is the one you’ve to take care of”, he added.
Ingibjörg turned her head towards her husband and the unknown woman.
“Who is she ?”, asked the chief’s wife.
“A midwife to help you birth”, he said.
“What’s her name ?”
“I don’t know.”
Sigurd turned himself towards the woman, his visage’s expression showing interrogation. But she said nothing.
“What’s your name ?”, he asked
“Hulda”, said the midwife.
“Great. Now go take care of my wife.”
She approached of Ingibjörg.
“Have you had a baby before, lady ?”, asked the midwife, while a glance allowed her to see the young Hysing who was playing with some wood pices in the corner.
“No”, answered Ingibjörg.
“It will take longer. We all go through it, keep your calm, it should go well.”
The midwife gathered further information about the pregnancy, and asked for water to be brought. The idea of seizing some farmer’s house for the birthing was dropped, as it was impractical for Ingibjörg to move much and it would not have benefited her.
Labour only began two days later in the morning. In the meantime, the midwife had been kept close, fed and well-treated, but guarded against escape.
As for Alfrid’s childbirths, Sigurd stayed all along to be witness to the birth of his new child.
It took a few hours for the cervix to dilate and for the baby to slowly go out, but they went without a hitch – though not without pain.
“It is a girl”, announced Hulda.
While he would have liked a son, Sigurd didn’t mind it much. He had one already, and knowing that this little thing was from him filled him with joy.
He decided to name his newborn daughter Alfhildr.
Once again, while he let others suggest names, he ignored the suggestions to stick to the idea he had from the beginning.
Despite the striking similarity in sonority, this name was entirely unrelated to Alfrid in meaning. The name of his wife detained prisoner by Fairhair meant approximately “beautiful rock”, while the name he decided to give to his daughter referenced battle and elves.
It felt extremely appropriate to him. She had been conceived just as this war had begun, and was now born in the midst of his war manoeuvre. And among Norse, elves were thought to be beautiful and powerful supernatural beings. As a child’s name was thought to influence how he would become growing, Sigurd wished something pushing his daughter towards feminine greatness.
And so, when he recognized the child as his a few days later, Alfhildr it was.
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That could have gone much worse! Ingibjörg probably won't feel too secure without a boy though, given her fear here that she'd been set to secondary.
To all : I was quite uninspired for the next chapter, which is why I set it aside until now. There are significant events to write about, but extending that to a chapter's length is another matter.
It is coming tonight, however.
It is coming tonight, however.
Indeed !
She certainly would have preferred a boy, but at least this daughter proves that she absolutely can have children. And, with Alfrid in captivity, she really has nobody to be behind at the moment anyway.
Life and other time-consuming activities had caught up with me and stopped the updating of this AAR. However, I'm far from having finished the story I envisioned when starting this. I have a chapter and a half about ready, and I currently find myself with more time than previously.
I've gone back over the 10 first chapters and fixed many small mistakes that I can now spot more easily as I'm more fluent in english, and fixed some discrepancies between the published chapters and my own copy. This updating isn't as enjoyable as reading the story for itself, but it's getting me back in the mood of the story. Once I'm done with this, I'll publish a new chapter.
I've gone back over the 10 first chapters and fixed many small mistakes that I can now spot more easily as I'm more fluent in english, and fixed some discrepancies between the published chapters and my own copy. This updating isn't as enjoyable as reading the story for itself, but it's getting me back in the mood of the story. Once I'm done with this, I'll publish a new chapter.
First Arc - Chapter 44 - April 874
Chapter XLIV
April 874 – Akhershus, Norway
“We must move west to Vestfold”, said Thorolfr. “We lack time.”
“The situation is tense”, said Sigurd, “but we are about to capture Bergheim too. We can wait a few days more before moving, our troops will move faster than Fairhair’s and escape if he tries to force us to battle.”
“What’s the point of capturing it when our enemy will soon after be able to retrieve it ?”
“The loot, of course. That means more resources for us and less for them, even if we can’t hold the land after that.”
The prudent siege strategy chosen by Sigurd had given time to Haraldr Fairhair, and turned out to not be as safe as anticipated. The enemy’s men had marched from Nidaros to Oppland, where they were busy taking the territory back and, more importantly, organizing for a direct attack against Sigurd.
The army defeated in January had retreated north, but it had yet to merge with Fairhair’s main army.
“But they will keep harrying us”, said the commandant. “Foraging has become more difficult lately, and they will certainly send even more skirmishers to wear us down before their final attack.”
“That’s why it will only be a few days.”
“You know, my lord, I’m not one to refuse fighting. I’d gladly assault Bergheim now. But waiting here is like putting ourselves between an anvil and a hammer.”
“The hammer”, said Sigurd while grabbing the small hammer he wore around his neck, “his on our side. Your concerns have been heard, Thorolfr. If our scouts report movements of the main enemy army sooner or faster than anticipated, we’ll pull out.”
Torrblom was much more worried than he let on. Ever since he became chief, the responsibility over his shoulders had burdened him, and in a decisive war, every choice became momentous.
The siege efforts in Aker had been perturbed by skirmish parties trying to relieve the besieged by disturbing Sigurd’s army supply.
Twice over, Sigurd’s forces had intercepted and annihilated such enemy forces.
The first time occurred at the end of February, when Fairhair began employing this strategy of slowly tiring out the army of Nidaros. A trap was set up by moving forces stealthily to a foraging area, and over two hundred enemies were surrounded and massacred.
Soon after, Fairhair’s capital was forced to surrender, a night assault through the finally dug tunnel allowing to easily overwhelm Aker’s defenders.
<i>My house may have been pillaged by your minions, Fairhair, but I’m now pillaging yours !</i>, had thought a grinning Sigurd as his men were busy looting.
It couldn’t avenge the capture of Alfrid and Ingfrid, however, as his rival had moved his family and his precious possessions at the time of his flight.
The second time was more recent : it was only a few days earlier, at the end of March. A surprise attack tried to break the line of the besieging forces and to join forces with the garrison. But the relief force was too small to succeed, and got crushed.
These small victories bolstered the confidence of Sigurd’s warriors and weakened the enemy, but Haraldr’s sheer ability to find more and more men to enlist bewildered Torrblom.
<i>Our scouts are confident these are not a subset of his main army</i>, he reminded himself. He went to his tent.
“Hysing, come.”
The two years-old was now able to speak a little. The child turned his head towards Sigurd, stood up and went to the tent’s entrance, a wooden horse still in his right hand.
The chief led his son to the outside, to the cold air of his army’s camp.
“You miss your mom, don’t you ?”
“Yes… father.”
“I miss her too.”
The child had to walk with a lot of quick steps in the mud-and-ice soil to keep up with Sigurd, as they advanced between the tents.
Hysing was still too young to understand what had been going on. As he walked behind his father, he could see warriors patrolling the camp and paying their respect to Sigurd when they saw him, but he wouldn’t have been able to tell why they were here or what a war is.
Sigurd took his son in his arms, lifting him up to his height.
“You see these wooden fences ?”, he asked, pointing towards Bergheim.
“Yes”, mumbled the small child.
“Behind them is a village. We are here to take it.”
The child felt at the voice of his father that this was important, but he was nonetheless confused.
“You will understand when you are older”, added the chief.
Without trying to explain more, he stayed there silently. He had to win this war.
A week later, with no sign of Fairhair’s main army arriving, the defenders of Bergheim surrendered. The earlier defeat of the reinforcing party and the threat of a wholesale slaughter tipped the scales.
This was a temporary relief.
First Arc - Chapter 45 - June 874
Chapter XLV
June 874 – Vestfold, Norway
Spring brought the melting of the winterly snows, but as life took over the landscapes of Norway once again, the war situation remained frozen.
Sigurd and Haraldr continued manoeuvring their armies, sending scouts and spies towards each other, probing for weaknesses to exploit. It was now more than a year since the start of the great Norwegian War, and hopes of a quick and decisive victory had all but faded away. Remained a positional struggle.
“Our situation is becoming difficult, my lord”, said Thorolfr.
The commandant was, along with Ofeig and two scouts, in Torrblom’s tent for a war council.
“Waf, waf”, barked Sigurd’s dog.
The chief sighed, annoyed by this overly aggressive animal who had trouble differentiating friends from foes. With a loud order, he got it to back down.
“Please continue”, said Sigurd to his second.
“Scout, repeat to our chief what you told me”, added Thorolfr while gesturing towards a lean and small man with dark hair.
“Three days ago, the main army of Ostlandet I was watching from afar began marching south, after having entered Hedmark’s capital.”
“When you say main army, you speak about the result of the merger of Fairhair’s first army and the one that was defeated this January ?”, asked the chief.
“Yes.”
“How many were they ?”
“I’d estimate at least three thousands, at most five.”
“That’s a large range.”
“Their troops were not concentrated in a single spot and I had to be cautious to not get caught, I couldn’t get close.”
Sigurd mumbled a few indistinct words.
“And you”, he said while looking at the second scout, “what news are you here to bring ?”
“My lord, I was in Bergheim this morning and have been sent to report on enemy movements. A small group of Ostlandet warriors coming from the South have been spotted marching northwards.”
“Is that all ?”
“Yes.”
“Then, please leave us”, he said, motioning to the scouts.
As they left, the dog barked once more, immediately silenced by Sigurd’s glance.
“Ofeig, you have been silent so far. Tell me what you think.”
“All this besieging is bad for the men. They are softening and… and… hum. They don’t like it… and me neither. I’d rather march towards Fairhair to settle this on the battlefield. With good omen, we shall have fate on our side.”
“I see.”
“I think we should start negotiating towards a peace settlement, my lord”, said Thorolfr. “We lost Oppland last month, and now Hedmark.”
“We still have not been defeated in battle and have been plundering their lands for months, they would certainly be amenable to reasonable peace terms where you would keep the territories you conquered, my lord.”
“Indeed, I could see Fairhair happily accepting a white peace… To keep the lesser chiefs from abandoning the war with their men, he had to focus on retaking their holdings. While the advantage of surprise is gone for us, our attack while he was ill from his wound and unprepared leaves us in control of his capital. However, such a peace is an unacceptable outcome.”
“Why, my lord ? We had high hopes for this war, but it was a risky bet.”
“Such a peace would be akin to a defeat for us. How… Today, the troops fighting under the banner of Nidaros are as numerous as they may get. Veterans from our earlier campaigns were joined by hundreds of new recruits hoping for glory and loot, enthused by our previous successes. But the Yngling’s territories are richer and more populous than ours. In the next war… You know very well there has to be a next war. Haraldr wants to be king and won’t relax until either he conquers us or we surrender to him.”
“Certainly, but…”
“So, in the next war, he’ll have once again more troops than us. But he will be better prepared. He would have had nothing else to focus on, we won’t be able to surprise him. This very war was rushed because time plays against us against Fairhair. If we can’t manage to weaken him now, this whole war was a waste of time and lives. Or do you think I’m missing something here ?”
“Well… If we keep fighting, we’ll either win or lose. Our men are worried about what may have happened in their homes, but we didn’t lose on the battlefield, so they remain reliable. A loss would be seen as a terrible omen, and it would become impossible to then get Fairhair to agree on peace without giving him too much. Our prospects of winning aren’t so great that I’d want to bet on them.”
“Much of what you said here is true. But why do you think our prospects would be better in a few years than they are now, while we still occupy Haraldr’s capital and are about to submit Vestfold as well ?”
“We could try and get allies. The king of Uppland wouldn’t want to see Fairhair get this powerful. With peace now, we might persuade him to ally us.”
“Fair enough. I’m wary of putting ourselves at Ironside’s mercy, he wouldn’t want us defeating Haraldr anymore than Haraldr defeating us. Of course this would even the odds…”
“So is it decided, then ?”
“No. Obviously I had been considering alliances that could help us, but there are some other issues with Ironside.”
“What issues ?”
“He’s getting old, and his named hair is still a child. It’s Björn Ragnarsson grandson, as his son Eirikr died three years ago, and his only other son is a baby he got from some saxon christian woman he enthralled in Britain and impregnated afterwards. Rumour says he killed the woman’s first child and she’s still a zealous christian that’ll poison the mind of her new son.”
“That younger son wouldn’t make a suitable heir.”
“Definitely not. Ironside’s grandsson is much better but too young. Would Ragnarsson die in the next few years, before we can wage a new war on Fairhair, the alliance would fall apart while fighting would erupt with ambitious jarls trying to overthrow Björn Eirikrsson. Fairhair would immediately be at our throat.”
“So…”
“For now, we’ll continue this war. I have talked with Ingibjörg about this yesterday, and she also agreed it’s the best path forward as long as the Gods send us promising omens.”
A few weeks later, while Faihair was still busy organizing and moving his unified army, Vestfold had been widely looted.
First Arc - Chapter 46 - September 874
Chapter XLVI
September 874 – Nidaros, Norway
Many months had elapsed since Ingibjörg’s escape in face of Fairhair’s army, over a year since Sigurd had left his capital to wage war on his rival. The familiar sight of the majestic Thrond from the hill’s height made Torrblom feel some nostalgia for simpler times, before he became chief. Ingibjörg was by his side, holding their daughter and talking to her in that peculiar way mothers notice arouses the baby’s curiosity and interest. Sigurd held his wife against him, remaining silent.
The army had made camp for the night. All along the travel across western Norway, there had been warriors who had relatives living nearby. They weren’t given leave to go see them, as discipline would have plummeted, but their loved ones could come. The joy of seeing a mother, father, wife, sister, child… not seen for months was rife with concern as Ostlandet’s army was on the pursuit and threatened to ravage as of yet untouched lands.
Telemark had not contributed any warrior to Sigurd’s army, except for some volunteers. Sigurd had been tempted to call upon the tribe to provide warriors, but decided against it. He had given his word, and didn’t want to risk a revolt. Telemark’s passivity in the war hadn’t prevented, however, Fairhair’s forces from plundering, pillaging, rifling, and looting settlements in the region.
“What are you thinking about, husband ?”, asked Ingibjörg.
“I wonder where Ingfrid is, now.”
Sigurd could feel his wife tensing at those words, reminded of her failure to bring with her the chief’s first daughter.
“I also wonder what’s left of our home after Fairhair’s men looted it.”
“So do I”, said Ingibjörg.
She said some tender words to her baby daughter, who had never been yet in Nidaros and had become accustomed to the army’s travelling. Sigurd remained silent, staring ahead.
“Soon we will see with our eyes”, said his wife.
“No”, answered the chief.
“What ?”, said the gydja, surprised.
“We’re not going to take back our village. I mean… not now. Later, we will.”
“We have three thousands warriors with us, why not now ? How will you explain it to our men ?”
“Good questions, my dear”, he said, stroking her cheek. “I don’t want to fight Fairhair around here. The latest reports from our spies indicate there is discontent among his troops because he’s only left with promises to pay his men. Warriors from his own tribe can live with it, but volunteers from other tribes that hoped for quick glory are disgruntled. This would also explain why their army is prioritising looting over pursuing us.”
“If I understand, you hope that delaying the next battle will hurt them more than us ?”
“Yes, I hope so.”
“Our warriors may not like your plan.”
“If we were to stop and try and force a battle quickly, we should have done it months ago.”
“And you could have used the fjords to our advantage.”
“Not so much. Fairhair may not have close to enough warships to cross fjords at once or do a quick coastal travel without splitting his forces, but it’s impossible to use these natural barriers for anything more than delaying and harassing. To really prevent crossing by not letting unprotected areas, we’d need a huge fleet, or tens of thousands of warriors.”
He laughed at this ridiculously huge number. The current war was the biggest ever in living memory, and yet this number dwarfed that of all the fighters together, foes or allies. His scouts had reported Fairhair having assembled a force of five thousand warriors, followed by hundreds of non-fighting men and women. His enemy's feat in assembling such a large force had weighted in his decision. Ingibjörg only let a small smile, while she cradled the small Alfhildr.
“We could wait here”, said Sigurd. “But I don’t want a battle on the gentle farming hills around our home village. I want to dare him to fight in winter, on more rugged terrain. So, back to your first question, taking the village back would only be an invitation for it to be taken again. We could easily take it, but I hope to spare it from another round of destruction. May the Norns make it so.”
Ingibjörg was thoughtful.
“I will have to look for omens. If they support your plan, men will go along. A sacrifice would also help to get favour from Gods.”
Sigurd answered with a kiss.
Always nice to see an AAR come back from the dead! Looks like things hang in the balance, so a careful defensive strategy seems like a sound plan for winter.