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Steelforged Legacy 4 - Chapter 9
🕑 Added 2025-10-10 08:00:06 +0000 UTCChapter 9
“Do not let them push you about or belittle you, Drengr,” advised Queen Runa in a low tone as their group strode over the open ground between the two camps. “You may be a new recruit, but you are still of the Roaring Mountain. We do not abandon our own and you are only claiming what is yours by right.”
Casey nodded firmly, not varying his stride as he led the delegation of the Roaring Mountain to the designated meeting spot.
They’d arrived on site two days previously, ahead of the delegation from the Bronze Fist and had taken the time to establish a camp around the qi-ships.
Given the tense nature of their interaction with the other clan, they had opted to not pitch tents and sleep in the ships should something happen. They had, however, taken the time to exercise their spirit beasts and spar where there was far more room to work than the enclosed decks.
Queen Runa had taken the time to instruct Casey on what to expect in this exchange, as well as coach him on how he should act and react. She was unaware of the fact that Maude had been doing the same during their nightly interludes within the spiritual space where Casey’s qi resided, but it was still good to have confirmation that things should proceed how Maude had told him.
“You defeated him in recognized holmgang, do not let them challenge that. They already have been told by their own that we ransomed back this, as that was part of the ransom requirement,” Runa continued. “You have proof in the form of his weapons, taken from his body as part of the victor’s rights to claim the possessions of the defeated.”
Casey had been given the sword that he’d won from Damien back and now carried it within his storage belt, along with the belt knife that held the mark of the Bronze Fist. So he nodded in understanding to what Runa was covering again for him.
“As the victor, it is up to you to negotiate what you see as a fair payment. By rights, as you defeated a lord in their clan, you are entitled to his home, lands, and possessions. They may try to fob you off with just his possessions at the time of defeat, but do not let them. I negotiated this chance for you to meet, but I cannot negotiate in your stead as this took place before you were one of my clan,” Runa continued.
“Understood,” Casey said calmly. He felt Maude’s comforting presence pressing against his mind from within, and he knew that his lover would support and advise him without hesitation. Magnus’ solid presence at his back was also a reassurance, as was the knowledge that Einar and Vibeke were part of the crowd of drengr at their back.
They had set out as the sun broke the horizon, and as Casey reached the edge of the marked ground. It was a circle one-hundred feet across, denoted by strips of blood-red cloth tacked into place with iron spikes. The others came to a stop except for Runa and Magnus as they reached their edge, standing in a row on the outside of the marked ground with their spirit beast companions arrayed behind them in a second rank.
Casey had been wondering where Runa’s spirit beast companion was, but all she’d said was that he was ‘nearby’ and would come if needed. But bringing something of his strength would have been seen as a declaration of war, something she wasn’t sure if she was willing to escalate to yet.
Reaching the center of the circle, Casey came to a stop with Magnus a step behind him. Runa had stopped halfway between their drengr and Casey, allowing the young man to handle himself in this situation.
It is rude that they aren’t even moving yet, Maude grumbled inside his mind as Casey settled in to wait, one hand resting on Maude’s pommel.
It only reflects badly on them that they are dragging their feet, Casey replied as he stared blandly over the section of open field to the camp set up around a dozen qi-ships.
Unlike the rapid-camp of the Roaring Mountain, the Bronze Fist had erected several elaborate tents along with a large bonfire on their side of the border. He could see movement from the tents, but it was a good ten minutes of waiting before a group emerged from amongst the tents and started towards him.
They underestimate us, Magnus said smugly, the elk huffing through his nose and shaking his head derisively to make the vines in them rattle.
Casey couldn’t argue with the elk, as the group approaching them matched the Roaring Mountain delegation man-to-man at roughly thirty drengr, but it looked like there was no accounting made for the different spirit beasts that accompanied the warriors.
Their loss, and our gain. Especially if they are dumb enough to start a fight, Casey replied to his friend. Magnus huffed again, this time in amusement.
As the other delegation approached, Casey studied them carefully. His meetings with the Bronze Fist drengr had been mixed. He’d met a few that were respectful, and a good number that acted like barely more than brigands. Having spent time on the police force and experienced it in his past life, Casey was loath to paint the entire clan with the same brush because of the actions of a few, but these were not representing their clan well.
Dressed in the marked tunics, the approaching drengr had weapons at their belts and many had armor equipped as well. Stumbling along in their midst was a pair of men in ragged clothes bearing a large wooden chest bound in bronze strips between them.
Of course they bring thralls along to carry the goods, Maude spat in his mind. It wouldn’t put across the same message if they just used a storage belt or carried it themselves.
Just more on brand actions for what we would expect of the Bronze Fist, Casey thought back as the group approached before he shifted his hands to not have one resting on Maude’s hilt.
Magnus didn’t respond, though the Gladewalker Elk stamped at the turf behind Casey loud enough that he heard the solid thump for once.
Casey caught murmuring behind him and one conversation made him have to fight a smile off.
“Five horns says that they start off insulting him,” said a masculine voice he couldn’t quite place off to his left.
“I’ll take that bet,” snickered another voice, this one feminine. “Five more says they ignore him and try to talk to the Queen first.”
“That makes no sense, ignoring him would be an insult,” replied the first voice before someone hissing at him brought silence back over the group.
Out of the corner of his eye, Casey caught sight of Runa shaking her head in exasperation, the light shimmering off her ash-gray hair.
By that point, the Bronze Fist delegation had reached their half of the ring. At first, it looked like the entire group was going to continue marching forward and Casey tensed up. But only the first eight crossed the line—accompanied by the thralls with the chest—while the others arrayed themselves arrogantly in a line.
The eight approaching Casey were made up of six men and two women, all of them dressed richly in both fine clothes and beautifully tanned hides. It stood out against the simple and practical clothing he was wearing, but Runa had not dressed up either.
Leading the group was a slim man with a large nose bearing a look like someone had just waved a handful of shit under his face. Watery brown eyes stared at Casey as he approached and then dismissed him to fall to Queen Runa whom he focused on.
Once the group was within fifteen feet of Casey, the group slowed and only the watery-eyed man continued forward. The fact that they had not stopped at the same distance as Runa did not escape him, and Casey didn’t need Maude hissing at him to know it was meant as a subtle insult to him that they were not giving the respectful distance.
“Queen Runa, it is a pleasure to see you though I wish that we could meet under better circumstances,” simpered the watery-eyed man as he came to a stop within arm’s reach of Casey, though he ignored the younger man.
Runa didn’t respond, though Casey caught a disappointed groan from the drengr at his back and a feminine snicker of triumph. He didn’t have time to find amusement in that, though. He needed to deal with the problem in front of him.
“I, Casey the Sullivan, am here to receive what is my due per the rules of holmgang,” Casey said firmly, drawing on a tiny bit of qi to empower his lungs and vocal cords with his Bellow’s Roar technique to project the words outwards.
The command in his tone struck like a hammer to an anvil, drawing the speaker’s eyes to him as he stared defiantly at the representative that was ignoring him.
“I’ll get to you in a moment, boy,” snapped the official, his lip curling in distaste.
Casey sighed, turning to look towards the other seven that stood back with the sweating thralls. The two women and one of the men looked irritated as they glared at the back of the official, while the other four men were looking gleeful at the insult being leveled towards Casey right now.
Without speaking further, Casey’s right hand dipped to his storage belt and produced Damien’s sheathed sword with a flick of his wrist. The weapon materialized in his grip, held by the sheath. Casey slammed the sheathed tip into the soil firmly enough that it stuck in front of him.
“I have had about enough of the insults leveled my way by the Bronze Fist,” Casey snapped, letting more qi flow into the Bellow’s Roar technique to make his words ring out over the plains. “I was challenged by a lord in your clan while he was backed by a mob of your drengr, like a mass of bandits. And when I won, they refused to honor those terms. Are you here to fulfill the terms in his stead, or shall I declare the Bronze Fist a clan of oathbreakers?”
That produced a reaction from those observing.
At Casey’s back, the Roaring Mountain drengr began to grumble and growl. They all knew that this should have been a polite and respectful exchange and the Bronze Fist representative was disrespecting their junior. A junior who had excelled during his trials and had shown his honor already. Insults like this reflected on the entire clan as a whole as well, and none of them were happy with it.
The Bronze Fist drengr were also taken aback, with murmurs growing from those on the other side of the marked line. The three that had looked irritated before were now glaring murderously at the representative’s back while the other four were starting to look concerned at the young man they had assumed was just a jumped-up novice.
Declaring them oathbreakers is a big step, Maude warned him. But it is the correct one to escalate to with how they are treating you. Especially with Runa here to witness it for you.
Magnus didn’t speak mentally to Casey, but as the murmuring and complaints grew louder around them, the large animal tilted his head back and let out an echoing bugle that cut through the complaints. In the echoing silence afterwards, Magnus snorted and shook his head while glaring at the representative.
“You would dare…” murmured the man, shaking in rage as he glared down his overlarge nose at Casey.
“I’ve dared quite a bit in the last few months,” Casey snapped back. “Now, are you going to do this how you are supposed to? Or have I wasted my clan’s time in coming to speak to men with no honor.”
“Oh for Odin’s sake, Thorvald!” snapped the one man in the group by the chest. “Get on with it! You are making the rest of us look like fools and I do not appreciate it! I warned you not to play games with him just because of his age.”
Thorvald ignored the other man’s words and Casey felt a sudden wash of qi rush from the man towards him. It wasn’t in the form of an attack, but instead a sheer weight of pressure from the watery-eyed man in a show of dominance.
Casey felt the qi moments before it hit him and braced as a pressure similar to what he felt emanating from Queen Runa settled over him. Nowhere near the same level of pressure as Runa carried, but enough to tell Casey that Thorvald was beyond the Mortal Journey on the Drengr’s Road.
“Thorvald Erikson! How dare you?!” Queen Runa snapped and a moment later Casey felt an answering weight hit him from behind as Runa extended her own aura to block the pressure from the other man. While it had knocked him slightly off balance, Casey had been able to weather the pressure for the moment. Now, with Runa’s help, he felt nothing from the other man.
“Fine,” snapped Thorvald, his eyes glittering with hate towards Casey until they dropped to look at the sword in his hands. “I have brought wereguild for the supposed attack on the Roaring Mountain—”
“Horseshit,” Casey snapped, interrupting the man and earning him a deepening glare from Thorvald. But Casey was done with being disrespected by the Bronze Fist.
He knew that this man in front of him could likely kill him with ease. Thorvald was magnitudes of power above him. But he highly doubted Runa would allow anything to happen. Even if he didn’t have the senior drengr with him, Casey was at the end of his patience already.
Apparently, so were the three with Thorvald as well, because before Casey could elaborate, one of the women spoke up.
“Don’t be an ass, Thorvald. Do this right or step back and let one of us do it. You already have disgraced the Bronze Fist enough today!” the woman, a brunette with her hair in a single thick braid, snapped. “If I’d known you were going to act like this, brother, then I would have beaten you within an inch of your life when you insisted we make them wait earlier!”
“Indeed,” Runa spoke with an icy tone that thundered with as much power as Casey’s had earlier, though she wasn’t using a technique. “If you wish the Roaring Mountain to walk a road of blood against the Bronze Fist, this is how you step upon that road.”
Thorvald blanched as the far more powerful drengr leveled the threat, even as Maude hissed an explanation to Casey.
A ‘road of blood’ is a feud between clans, Maude explained rapidly. It is done rarely between clans in the Nation, but it is an all-out war of domination. Normally, a larger clan like the Roaring Mountain wouldn’t level it towards a smaller one, as that would be seen as picking on a smaller subordinate clan, but with the insults being leveled and their own direct attacks on the Roaring Mountain, it would stand up.
And the fight between the Bronze Fist and the Oak Horde? Casey asked quickly, the hands on his hips shifting slightly to let one finger touch the bare metal of Maude’s seax form.
Raiding over resources is different, Maude answered with a mental sigh. Also, the Bronze Fist and the Oak Horde are considered equals, so the skirmishing is more acceptable.
“You have continued to insult my junior and my clan by extension,” Runa continued while Casey observed. “Do I need to take you to task for this, Thorvald?”
“No, Queen Runa. My apologies,” simpered the suddenly cowed drengr, bowing towards the woman. “I only sought—”
“You sought to deceive me and bully me,” Casey added, catching eyes with Runa and getting a nod of acknowledgement from the woman, signifying that she would let him handle the rest. “I will no longer treat with you, Thorvald Erikson. I would ask that another of your clan step forward to speak with me over this matter.”
“I will take up this task,” snapped the man who had chastised Thorvald earlier. “I am Oswald Verikson.”
“Please, step forward Oswald,” Casey replied, turning to face the man fully as Thorvald shot him a murderous look.
Despite the hate in Thorvald’s eyes, Casey ignored him. From the coaching that Maude and Runa had given him on this, there was little the man could do right now. He’d leveled public insults that could have easily seen Casey challenge him, and with Runa’s open support, it was obvious that the elder drengr would have supported the challenge, maybe even acting as champion for her underling.
Casey saw the moment when Thorvald realized all this and how badly he’d messed up with his little attempt at a power play. The slim man inclined his head and slunk back to his group and passed Oswald as the other man approached.
Unlike Thorvald, Oswald was broad-shouldered and well-muscled. He carried himself with pride and his intelligent green eyes sparked as he studied first Casey, and then Magnus who stood behind him.
Oswald approached until he stood a sword’s length away from Casey and then offered his arm.
“Greetings to you, Casey the Sullivan of the Roaring Mountain,” the other man said in a formal tone.
“Greetings to you, Oswald Verikson of the Bronze Fist,” Casey replied, stepping forward to take the other man’s forearm in a warrior’s grip.
The two stared into each other’s eyes, Oswald’s green orbs burning into Casey’s blackened silver.
“You claim victor’s rights for a holmgang against Damien Gorikson. I see you bear a blade there, which I was informed belonged to Damien and was claimed at the end of the duel. May I see it to confirm?” Oswald asked formally once they separated.
Casey nodded and yanked the weapon out of the turf, offering it formally to Oswald.
The other man took the sheathed weapon and studied it, drawing it partially from the sheath to check the blade before nodding and offering it back.
“I have verified your prize, and have heard testimony of the holmgang,” Oswald continued, his tone formal and back straight. “I offer you the apologies of the Bronze Fist for the actions of a rogue amongst our leadership. You were the insulted party and yet you accepted his demands of holmgang. You were further insulted by his refusal to allow the customary time of preparation. As such, I am prepared to offer you both the possessions of the fallen, as well as his inheritance and just compensation for his lands and titles.”
Oswald turned smartly and strode to the large, wooden chest where it sat behind him. Casey noticed a scroll-tube that sat balanced atop it, which the other man collected and then returned to stand in front of Casey.
“This details what we are offering. Our clan-head determined that, rather than offering you the land directly, they would compensate you a fair price in coin and cores. It was agreed upon by the council of advisers that they would offer a further ten percent over the value of the land for you to accept this compensation, as Queen Runa made it quite obvious that you would be joining the Roaring Mountain and it would not be right for a member of another clan to own territory that should belong to the Bronze Fist.”
Presumptuous, Maude grumbled in his mind. They had no right to make that assumption, so you can press to receive the territory if you want. But it might be better to just accept the resources, as it would only slow us down to have to administer lands.
Not to mention that the drengr who live on that land would likely fight me over it, Casey thought and accepted the scroll from Oswald before unrolling it to look over the contents.
~~~~~~~~~~
The Bronze Fist cede to Casey the Sullivan the following as is his right under the laws of holmgang:
Personal Coin:
4,312 gold horns
2,230 silver fangs
628 copper claws
Personal Items of Value:
344 sapphires (no less than a grain of rye in size)
51 elemental cores (assorted elements, good quality)
147 beast cores (assorted elements, good quality)
23 elixirs (assorted, of good quality and properly labeled)
3 swords (enchanted, fire and durability)
4 storage belts (medium size)
1 heirloom sword (already claimed)
In exchange for the lands of Damien Gorikson and other family heirlooms:
320 elemental cores (assorted elements, exceptional quality)
450 beast cores (assorted elements, exceptional quality)
24,610 gold horns
Acceptance of these offerings by Casey the Sullivan—witnessed by the council members dispatched to make contact—will call an end to this dispute and lay to rest enmity between the Bronze Fist and Drengr Casey the Sullivan.
May no more blood be spilled in this dispute.
Jarl Henrik Jorvison, Patriarch of the Bronze Fist.
~~~~~~~~~~
Casey finished reading over the scroll, doing his best to not let his eyebrows shoot up in surprise at what was being offered to him. Maude’s surprised whistle in his mind was enough to bring him back to reality, though he did not look up from the page.
That is more than a prince’s ransom. The Jarl clearly wants to make amends for what happened. Makes me wonder why it was that Thorvald was playing games earlier, Maude murmured into his mind.
Humans are stupid, Magnus piped up. He probably wanted to try and double dip on it, and maybe earn himself some credit for saving his jarl the resources.
Entirely possible, Magnus, Maude replied to the elk. I’d say that this is worth it. The resources there will equip and provide the best supplies for us as well as provide plenty of cultivation materials going forward.
I’d do it for the elemental cores alone… it boils my blood that they have so many to casually give away like this, Casey shot back, keeping a tight hold on his temper.
That was expected, Maude replied lovingly, sending him the sensation of a kiss. Your devotion to seeing them as more than most is impressive in its own right. And I cannot help but agree that it would be better to return them. It is not like we need those cores to grow when I can purify the Fomori cores for you.
Exactly, and the beast cores will likely be able to help Magnus, Vibeke, and Einar, Casey shot back before he furled the scroll with a sharp nod.
“I accept this as just compensation for the results of the holmgang and repayment for the insults to my honor and person,” Casey said, taking the scroll in his left hand and offering his right hand to Oswald.
The other man gave him a firm nod, his green eyes hard but respectful as they exchanged grips once more.
“On behalf of my Jarl, I recognize this feud as ended between my clan and the Drengr Casey the Sullivan,” Oswald said firmly before tugging Casey closer using their clasped hands. “I wish that we could have met in better circumstances, Drengr Casey. You have the air of a man who could give me a solid fight for once.”
“It would always be better to meet a friend along the Drengr’s Road than an enemy,” Casey answered, giving the other man’s forearm a squeeze. “In respect for your honesty and honor, Oswald, I will also call to end the enmity that I held for being assaulted by Damien’s nephew, Mikhail. He and two of his companions attacked me along the road without provocation. Despite this, I gave them a proper pyre to send them on, so they might find peace.”
Oswald’s expression tightened at the statement, but his eyes softened and he nodded in understanding.
“I thank you for that, and I will carry word back to his family that he fell in the wilds and was laid to rest. To shield you from further foolishness, I would recommend you keep that information to yourself. His mother, Damien’s sister, was the most vehement about trying to push this further than was proper. It was only the clan's coffers being nearly emptied to preserve her family's claim to their land that kept her from pushing more.”
Casey nodded in understanding before they released each other’s arms and stepped back.
Oswald gestured over his shoulder to the two thralls, who groaned as they picked up the chest by its carry-poles and lugged it forward.
The wooden box was large, maybe half the size of a coffin and almost a foot and a half tall. When it was set down with a thump next to Oswald, the man gestured the two thralls back and they bowed themselves away.
Once they had retreated to a respectful distance, Oswald flipped the latch on the chest and tipped the lid open, gesturing for Casey to step up.
The inside was not, as Casey had initially expected, filled with coins and other treasures. Instead, it held a small book, another smaller chest about the size of a hardback book and three times as thick, several large linen bags, and the four thick leather belts with polished brass buckles that were blank, but a series of colored ribbons were tied to each of the buckles: red, blue, yellow, and green.
“The book is a ledger of the exact items, while your scroll is the summary,” explained Oswald as he gestured to them in turn. “The bags were Damien’s personal coin from the clan bank, while the chest holds the elixirs. The other items are stored within the belts to preserve them, with the ribbons to denote which goes with which. It is all detailed in the ledger. The full chest is yours to keep as well.”
Casey nodded, and following Maude’s direction, touched each of the belts. A brief pressure with his qi allowed him to read what items were within given his practice using his own belt. Finding that everything was there that should be, Casey nodded and set the scroll within before closing the lid.
Squatting down, Casey gripped one of the poles and lifted the chest off the ground enough that he could send it into his own storage belt, making Oswald blink in surprise as the whole thing vanished.
“Thank you for your honorable actions today, Oswald. I consider myself satisfied and will request that my queen be understanding when negotiating for the wereguild regarding Damien’s attacks upon the Roaring Mountain overall.”
“No promises,” Queen Runa quipped from where she stood with her arms crossed and a hard expression on her features. “Especially not after the disrespect this meeting started with.”
Oswald grimaced at that, but nodded in understanding. Casey knew the man wasn’t upset with him, if anything he was sure that Oswald was upset with the deceased Damien for getting his clan in this mess, and Thorvald for his earlier idiocy.
Officially, not my problem anymore, Casey thought as the other man gave him one more respectful nod and they separated to return to their respective sides.
Comments
M. Tress
The spelling on that one is shakey. I've been told both ways
The Foreign Traveler
*Exasperated sigh before smiling* Saw that coming and I’m happy that at least SOME of the Bronze Fist have honor. Can’t wait to see what’s next. Also, potential edit: “Wereguild” Do you possibly mean “wergild”?
M. Tress
the ship is something he's not equipped or ready to care for. Sure, it'd be great to have, but the cost of maintenance on one of the qi ships is beyond a drenger on the Mortal journey.
Glawse
I thought for sure that maybe Casey might have gotten a ship out of it as his reward but I guess a chest full of booty is just as good. I wonder if his friends are going to get a storage belt full of cores as a holiday gift :)
