Prologue
Scandinavia 1043 AD
Around the fire the group of men gathered seated on old withered dead logs, their furs keeping them warm from the cold weather. Neither one exchanged words, just stared at the fire blazing about in the dead of the night. One young man looked at it with the eyes of a weary old soul. He rested forward, elbows easing on his knees as his blue eyes followed the path of embers and sparks chasing the smoke up to merge with the stars in the sky. Silence continued to fall upon them until one by one each man fell victim to sleep.
"We've come so far, there is nothing." One at last finally uttered in old Norse, the last still awake other than the young one he spoke to. "We have scoured near every inch of this land."
"We have come very far." The young man agreed uttering back, his voice low and deep in his chest cloaking his age. "I will be on look out tonight, you sleep."
"You should sleep. We need your strength." The other man raised his head at last, the light of the fire casting deeper lines across his face to accent his frown. The young man shook his head, eyes still on the sky. "If only for a moment. Even these woods-"
"Hide us well enough. Enjoy the fire while you can Håkon." He muttered.
The man called Håkon turned his attention back to the fire with a defeated sigh listening to the comforting crackle of the fire. "This had better turn out well. To come out so far from our home to find not a trace of these strangers we have heard of."
"It will."
The elder man smirked and chuckled wryly, the sound raspy and dry in his throat. Another frown wrinkled his forehead as he drew the fur tighter around his hunched form. "We are very lucky. To have such an optimistic prince." The blue eyed youth turned his head to the man, the corners of his lips twitching up some in a smile of sorts.
"Tomorrow we will go home my friend. That is a promise."
"I am grateful. My wife awaits."
Both men turned back to watch the fire in companionable silence when suddenly a blast echoed in the woods. The young prince's eyes narrowed dangerously reaching for the hilt of his sword. Behind him his men woke with a rude awakening instantly grabbing their weapons.
"Protect the prince!" Håkon hissed to the closest men, pointing to them as he reached for his ax looking about to see if the source of the noise was closing in.
"Calm yourselves." The prince uttered to them as his eyes slid around the wooded area carefully scanning for any movement.
"Cunning devils…" Someone uttered amongst them as they waited in silence, just the sounds of their breath and the fire crackling heard. Off to the side behind them a twig snapped instantly gaining the attention of the well seasoned fighters. All heads snapped with barely the bat of an eyelash to the sound backing away around their prince.
Another young man dressed in scarlet red garb of the finest material smirked as he stepped forward. A large hat perched atop his ashen blond hair, green eyes glittering with the thirst of an adventurer but heart of a savage. The feathers tucked into the hat fluttered in the wind as a moment of silence drifted between the teams.
"You must be who they call prince Berwald." The man's words were lost to the Viking men save for the last two. When the young prince's eyes widened a margin in recognition that this foreign man knew him, the intruder smirked wider even cackling tapping his weapon of choice nonchalantly against his shoulder. "They call me Arthur Kirkland. I'm a pirate." He brandished brazenly, giving the prince's men a mock bow laughing at how his English was practically lost to them. Behind him his men also laughed, mocking the fur clad men. "Let me see if I can put this into words you can understand." He pointed his long barreled gun off to the side towards the fire shooting a round into the blaze. The bullet ignited an explosion making Berwald frown, hiding his surprise from the strange Englishman.
When the explosion died down, so had the fire. Nothing was left but weak embers, now just the light of the full moon illuminating the prince's men. The white light seemed to make Kirkland's eyes all the more bloodthirsty as he slowly aimed the gun towards the Vikings aiming right through them, his green eyes locking onto Berwald. "I want your land." He muttered in slow old Norse, drawing out every syllable knowing they would understand.
"Over my corpse!" Håkon roared, ax raised in battle stance. Arthur couldn't understand the Norse anymore than they could understand English but he knew enough that they basically told him 'hell no'.
"Have it your way."
"No!" Berwald shouted. Time slowed down. The bullet fired penetrated the fur of the charging Håkon triggering the other Vikings to rush at the intruders. Blows were exchanged on both sides but none suffered the loss so much as Berwald. For each Englishman cut down, two of Berwald's Norsemen were slaughtered by their strange exploding weapons. His shield did well enough deflecting blows but around him he watched as these weapons were easily defeating his strongest warriors. This couldn't be. Is this where he died? No, this was still his land. He had the advantage.
Berwald backed away before turning around and disappearing into the trees. Behind him he heard the mocking laughter of the pirates, chiding and berating him for running.
"He isn't running." Arthur cackled walking over the dead bodies of Berwald's comrades, boots crunching the dirt and rubble slowly pursuing the other. He followed him laughing at his obvious attempts to use the lay of the land to outmaneuver the privateer. "I know what you're doing Viking!" Arthur laughed out loud as he stepped over the little traps that Berwald laid out, a vine here, thorn brambles there. "It's not working!"
He ran a ways until he reached a cape cliff overlooking to the ocean where he saw the monstrosity that was the English conqueror's vessel down below on shore. He growled and turned around just in time to see the captain jump from the shadows of the trees like a wild cat. This wasn't going to work, he couldn't think. Anxiety whittled away at his nerves as he backed away, his heels hanging precariously over the edge of the cliff.
"Not too smart barbarian." The pirate scoffed but laughed in amusement at Berwald's actions. "You know, it's not very sportsman like to insult you when you can't understand me. And like hell I'm going to go to great lengths to learn your entire hideous language."
Berwald continued to glare holding his ground.
"Yes why don't I change that?" With mild flourish, Kirkland sheathed his sword removing his gloves at the fingers. He looked preoccupied, maybe Berwald could sneak around- "Don't move." He droned, eyes still on his hands as the prince made a move. He grunted and moved back in place, glaring harder. Berwald couldn't understand him but he knew he had the man's attention. There was no way to sneak past.
Arthur plucked a feather from his cap turning his hand over. "Just one drop should do." With little thought, he pricked the tip of his finger with the quill smiling as the dark bead of life force welled up. Even he could see its color from what light the moon gave. "Now come here." The young Viking stayed where he was. "I said. Come-" He held out his other hand, gripped the air and pulled as if pulling on an invisible rope. All at once Berwald's insides twisted up as he felt some unknown force grab him and jerk him, pushing him-nay, pulling him towards the pirate. "here." The green eyed man grinned wide as he almost came nose to nose with the other man. "You'll understand me soon enough."
What happened next almost made the Viking retch in disgust. Arthur grabbed a handful of Berwald's blond hair and yanked back snarling at him.
"Open your mouth."
Another good yank made him snarl. He only opened his mouth to curse the man in his language when the pricked finger shoved itself between his lips, the metallic taste of blood touching his tongue. The prince tried to bite down on the finger but the pirate's firm grip on the hair at the back of his skull kept his jaw in place. His blue eyes looked up in fear as he heard Arthur mutter a chant as he maintained eye contact with his mouth.
"Devil!" Berwald shouted, pushing away from Arthur only succeeding when the other decided to let him go.
"Not quite but I can be." He cackled wiping the bloodied finger against his scarlet coat.
"You can understand me!" He gasped stepping back in alarm at this sudden display of witchcraft.
"Hardly." Arthur sneered with an amused chuckle. "I wouldn't want a barbarian like you to speak my advanced language and I don't feel like stooping to your level to converse."
Berwald's eyes narrowed at the barbarian comment but let it slide. "How is this done? What is this?!"
"The dark arts." Arthur's emerald green eyes glittered. "You'll find I have an arsenal at my disposal. It was too easy to dispatch your warriors, prince."
"You used dirty tricks and those…those-"
"Guns. They're called. You can call it a boomstick if you'd like." He chirped in a condescending tone tipping his head some to the side. "But I digress. It's a simple spell, consider it a favor Viking. You can understand any individual who speaks the English language and they will understand your heathen tongue in turn thinking you are civilized."
"You're a monster." He hissed.
"Call me what you will. It won't change the fact that I've won."
"Not yet you haven't! Not while I am alive and standing!" Berwald pulled out a dagger from his waistband holding it out threatening towards the other man.
"Well then let's just fix that." Arthur snagged a hold of the fur yanking him back in wrestling with him over the blade. The prince was indeed stronger and he almost overpowered the red clad pirate. That is until the heel of a boot came crashing down onto his kneecap making him grunt a yelp staggering back. Losing momentum, he hissed as a hand knocked the dagger out of his grasp. Green eyes were a whirlwind of ill-fated foreboding. "You'll die right here and now never knowing what will happen to your precious kingdom. Pity. I wasted that spell on you too."
"What?!" Berwald gasped, yanking at the fur to get away from his offender.
"With Finlandia under rule from your family and you out of the way, it will be all too easy to take your country. Your ports will give me vessels and easy passage to your fellow Germania nations on the mainland, under the guise of…say…peaceful traders." Berwald's eyes widened in horrified realization. "There will be none to stop my siege when it starts. Your neighbors Norway have fallen to my will and only your country stands in my way. Once I conquer it then one by one the kingdoms of the world will fall until my empire reigns supreme. I will claim the earth."
"Fool!" The Viking spat. "No man can rule the earth!"
"I think I can prove you wrong." Arthur cackled. "But you won't live to see my empire rise to greatness, as you said so yourself. In fact, why don't I add humiliation to that? You have yet to see the full extent of what I am capable of anyway."
The pirate stopped talking altogether and looked down the Viking's form lifting his own hand up chest level, palm facing the heavens as Berwald's arm rose to rest in his grip. Berwald tried to pull his straining arm free of this invisible grip but it wouldn't budge, not even an inch. A cruel smirk tugged at Arthur's lips as he dragged his fingertip down the pale palm of the captured prince. Strange words left his twisted lips as he muttered the satanic chant that was undoubtedly not English.
Berwald began to sweat and cringe, his insides twisted both figuratively and literally. "Let me go!" He looked down gasping at his hand. It was as if the englishman's finger, his touch had become as lethal as a blade. A thin line of a cut split his palm right over where the finger touched, blood welling up.
"Blood is the sweet essence of life, prince. It is amazing the things you can do with it." Arthur laughed.
"You've sold your soul to hell!"
"All creatures, all beasts have blood. Yours is the same color, so what makes you any different than a beast?" The pirate sneered cruelly ignoring the viking's words before jabbing his thumb over the cut making Berwald cry out in agony. He gasped however as the blond prince's paw of a hand hit his face, clawing over his eye. "Filthy savage!" Arthur snarled as he shoved the other off of him. Berwald's eyes went wide as he groped for something to catch his fall but he went tumbling over the edge of the cliff disappearing into the darkness.
Arthur frowned down, seething down the direction of the cliff before wiping the blood from his cheek and spitting soundly at the ground.
"Good riddance. Repugnant barbarian." Behind him his men came through the trees standing in place.
"Sir are you okay?" Their captain pulled a lacy fine white handkerchief from his own pocket dotting over his eye.
"I'm fine. Get the supplies from the ship, strip the Viking corpses of their furs and rendezvous with the others in the town."
"The furs sir?"
Arthur cast one more look down into the dark steep cliff of the cape before looking out over the ocean illuminated by the white light of the full moon smirking, one green eye clenched shut. "Merge in with those beasts. It will take days to reach the kingdom and I'd appreciate it if we get there before winter fully sets in. I want a surprise attack."
Aye cap'n. Move out you dogs!" One of the men barked, sounds of scuffling feet drew further and further away as Arthur Kirkland kept his gaze up to the sky.
"They'll never see me coming." He whispered, his breath misting out lips peeling back revealing a sly grin.