To De Bruis!

Well, I know in my other Blog I said a story a day or so for a while, but this one just had to go up the now... More of the Accidental Viking. This one be set some time after the companions, having left Miklagaard in the company of a Templar (The tale of that journey can be found around here... http://javieralcover.livejournal.com/ Somewhere.) The rest of the Accidental Viking (Bar what goes up here over the next few weeks) can be found at http://rothas-writing.livejournal.com/ . Again, intellectual property of myself, Jared G. Juckiewicz, and copyright to the same. Also again, warnings of violence, blood, death, drink, and innuendo. And, Without Further Ado. My Lords, My Ladies, Gentlemen, TO DE BRUIS!


(Note. Recent Events are leading to Retconning most of the Accidental Vikingr tales set AFTER Outremer. This falls amongst those. Furthermore, to move more into keeping with the setting, certain character names are being changed. Sir Jared shall be referred to as Jehan, and Sir Javier [Where he appears] as Iuliano. Sorry...)



The one they called Iuliano, dispossessed noble, Brother Serjeant of the holiest order of the Knights Templar, Companion to heathens, pagans and Infieles had been called before the highest representatives of his order in Jerusalem. "You have done well, Brother Serjeant, in securing for us building rights on the lands of De Bruis. But your task is not yet done." As Iuliano nodded in acquiescence, the Knight Captain speaking continued. "Our involvement in this matter must remain hidden for now. We have, through intermediaries, secured the services of an architect. He and his wife need an escort to the lands of De Bruis. One that cannot be traced to us." Again Iuliano nodded. "I know a pair. Good warriors, reliable. Fought with the Varangians." he paused, as this sunk in. As his superiors nodded, he decided to continue, to take something of a risk. "I think they know some of the heathen ways of the Vikingr. Perhaps, granted a dispensation by the order, they could pretend to Infiele ways. It wouldst certainly distance them from us." His superiors thought on this. And after some deliberation, a prolonged deliberation, in fact, they responded to him. "Much as it pains us, and God, to let those sworn to him pretend to other faiths. But distressing times call for distressing measures. Such a dispensation will be granted, and word passed to the Templars in these parts. Kindly make the arrangements, Brother Serjeant." And with that obvious dismissal, Iuliano left. He had three tasks to do. First, he spoke with the Brother Serjeant who had brought him the summons, and had the details of how to contact the Architect. From there he changed into his Noblemans getup, which he wore when he needed to be inconspicuous, and then he went to visit his erstwhile companions, the Bear and the Redjay, Jehan and Rauda by name. Finding them was fairly easy. There were only so many taverns in the holy land, and then there whereabouts could be narrowed down further by ignoring those drinking holes in the more affluent parts of the city. Then, he chose to ignore those that he recalled his companions complaining about inferior provisions. So, it only took him a few hours of searching before he found them. Or rather, before they noticed him walking into their bar, and raised a toast. "Hey, PEACOCK!" They bellowed, raising mugs of ale, as he strode over. As their mugs slammed onto the table, he grabbed their shoulders, and pulling their heads in closer, whispered to them "We need to talk. Negocios." At that, they left their tankards, and guided him to the room they had purchased with the last of their pay as Varayags. "What is this about?" They asked, as soon as the door was closed. The room was bare, with no windows, no hearth or chimney, and a stout door of heavily reinforced and barred wood. On each side of the small room was a bedroll, and a kitbag of sealskin. And of course, an arming tree with weapons stacked at the base. "I have an offer for you too, Infieles Though you are." At that the two started, as they reckoned he'd ceased to hold that against them long ago. "The Templar Order are willing to grant you a special dispensation, to pretend to be Infieles, should you undertake a small task for us." At this the two companions gaped... A moment later, Bear spoke. "So. We're to be be Pagans. Pretending to be Christians. Pretending to be Pagans?" He laughed, and after a moment so did Rauda. "And what do we need to do to obtain this dispensation?" "Nada mas Sencillo" Iuliano announced, Nothing Simpler. "The Templars need an Architect and his Wife escorted to the lands of the Lord Thomas De Bruis. And they need it done by folk who can't be traced to the Templars. And who better for that than a pair of Infieles?" He asked. "And all we have to do is see this pair safely to the lands of this De Bruis?" Asked Rauda carefully. Iuliano nodded. "We'll need money. For Horses. And lodgings on the way. Give us a week. Have them meet us at the Mercy's Gate Inn" referring to a well known tavern by the eastern gate to the Old City. "We've gotten to know the Innkeeps and Bar Wenches there... They ask for Raidho and Yeraw, they'll be directed to us." Iuliano left shortly after he recieved agreement, and made arrangements for the required funds, a map and directions, to be sent to the pair. He then visited the Architect and his wife at their home, and gave them the directions to the meeting place, and the meeting time, and warned them that their escorts were... less than christian. Meanwhilst, the Bear and the Redjay secured mounts and traveling provisions, and began to bear their Mjollnir pendants openly.
At the appointed day and the appointed hour, the Architect and his wife made their way to the Mercy Gate, and to the Inn that be there. As they made to step into the shadowed common room, they were forestalled by a body flying out of the doorway to land groaning on the ground. The landing was followed by a bellow of "And the next one to lay a hand on milady tastes my steel!" As they paused, waiting to see what happened next they heard a marginally more feminine bellow "I can fight my own battles, Bear". When another flying body failed to appear, they crept in, staying close by the door. The sight that greeted them, as they followed the grimy walls round to the bar was that of a pair of Northern Barbarians, surrounded by a ring of locals. One of the Northeners, a Woman, was not much greater than the locals in stature, but the other was a giant of a man by their standards, with long red hair hanging to his shoulders, and a shaggy red beard. Both of the northeners were armoured and panting heavily. On the other hand, every one of their opponents was battered and bruised.
As the various fighters began to settle down, and resume their seats, the Architect and his young wife reached the bar. "We're looking for... Yeraw? or Raidho?" They asked. The barkeep dropped a pair of full tankards on the bar, shoved them towards the pair, and gestured at the two northerners. "Those are for 'em. They're who your after." The pair carried the drinks over to where the two warriors sat, in a conspicuous bubble of empty tables. The drinks were deposited, and the Architect and his bride sat down on a pair of the rough hewn bar stools. "Yeraw? Raidho?" The man answered first. "I'm Yeraw. Jehan, Called Bear.", The woman followed this up, taking a swig of her newly delivered ale, "Raidho. Rauda, called Redjay" "You the bloke we be escorting?" The Architect looked at them, and answered in the affirmative. "We are. My name is John. This is my wife Anais." "Well Enough." Growled the Bear. He and Rauda drained their mugs, wiped their lips, and stood. "We leave now. We'll camp outside the walls tonight, and be at De Bruis within three days." Without another word, they turned to leave. As they collected the four riding horses and the pack mule they had procured from the stables, they whispered prayers under their breath to their elder gods. Farmognudr watch our steps, they whispered. Gangleri guide and Grimnir guard. Ward of Wodin, Lord of Thunders Look Away (That last being a prayer for good weather).
As they left the city, they made an imposing sight, John clad in the dress of a middle-class merchant type. His wife wore a dress of earthy tones, and rode side-saddle. The pair of them were in sharp contrast to their escorts. Bear, with his mailled hauberk coming to his knees, Chausse below them, mailled gauntlets on his hands a spectacled helm of the norse make. Over these he wore a cloak of brown wadmal, edged in green, with sword and axe and dagger belted to his waist, a round shield with a steel boss in black and white strapped to his back, and a two-handed crescent axe held loosely in his left. As for Rauda, she wore lighter armour, settling for a short and short-sleeved tunic, worn under a red-dyed leather waistcoat, and trews of wool. She had a longbow slung to her back, and a quiver full of red-feathered arrows hung from her belt next to a broadsword and dagger, and red feathers were tied into the hair framing her woad-streaked face. Their militant bearings, easy riding style, and close camraderie were woefully different from the worried postures of their charges, unsure of themselves on horseback, uncertain of their escorts, and worried by the chance of bandit attack.
Such a thing was absent that first day, and even most of the second. Mid afternoon on the second day however, a cloud of dust appeared on the horizon, and began to close. Bear checked to ensure his blades were loose, and passed the reins of the Pack Mule to John. Rauda meanwhile had unslung and strung her bow, holding an arrow to the string, guiding her mount with legs alone. The cost of mounts well enough trained for that to be possible would have been prohibitive had they not been backstopped by the Templars. As the riders drew closer, they got a count. Half a dozen of them, closing fast on light mounts. It wasn't until the travellers heard the warcries and saw gleaming scimitars raised high that the two warriors knew they had to earn their keep. As Bear leaned into his horses mane, spurring it forward, Rauda loosed her first arrow. One rider dropped from his saddle, and she hastily drew and nocked another arrow. A second rider dropped, but the Bear was too close to let her fire another. Slinging her bow, she drew her sword, as he met the first pair of overhead swings by simply raising his Axehaft over his head, gripping it in both hands. The fine, damascus steel cut deeply into the ashwood haft, and he braced himself against the stirrups. The blades had stuck in his haft, and he used the greater mass of his horse, as well as his own, to bowl his two foes over, off their mounts. Discarding his greataxe, useful no more with the added weight of the scimitars, he didn't deign fit to draw a replacement blade. He stood up in his stirrups, as he wheeled his mount around. He rode it to meet the last horseman concerned with him, the other riding straight for Rauda. Rauda responded to her foe simply. As the scimitar swung wildly for the side of her head, she kneed her horse in the side, and as it lept into the smaller horse, the rider's swing was thrown off. Hers however struck true, three feet of edged steel sinking into his side, and toppling from his steed.
Bear on the other hand had a slighty different approach. As he and his foe drew nigh, he slid his right foot out of its stirrup, bracing his weight of his left. As the Saracen he was facing raised his blade high, he threw himself at the man, knocking him from his horse, and landing atop him. It took a few seconds, a few maille-armoured swings at the man's face before he realised that that snap he had heard on impact was the breaking of the neck. He stood, and spun, a scimitar bouncing off his helm, and another glancing from his arm. He lashed out, seizing the arm of the one who had struck his head, and with a snarl, headbutted the man, a proper Vikingr Kiss. Steel plate ignored the little padding supplied by the man's turban, and as his victim staggered, the Bear punched him the torso, ignoring the scimitar blows bouncing off his maille. He never noticed when they ceased, Rauda having slain the man in a thundering charge. He was too busy lifting his hapless foe, and casting him to the ground. As the Saracen drew himself up to balance tottering on all fours, the Bear rolled him over, and kneeling on the man's torso leaned in close to his face, making certain his black iron hammer pendant was plainly visible. "This Time" He snarled, spittle marking the terrified bandit's face, "I'll let you live." He took his knee off the man, and stood, dragging the man up by his neck. "Cross me again and you won't be so lucky." Calming down slightly, his voice less venomous. "Any time the Bear or the Redjay travel with naught but Warriors, we be fair game. If we be guarding others, Stay Well Away, Gorm Take You!"
The rest of the journey passed uneventfully, bar those hassles that come from bearing an extra five horses, and the land took a dramatic change as they approached the lands of De Bruis. From the dry drab scrubland and desert, the land changed to green and wholesome, with wells spaced at intervals, water being drawn up by the aid of windmills, to irrigate the land and make it green and growing. By each well was a little pool, surrounded by date palms for shade, and whilst John and Anais wished to stop and refresh themselves, their guides would not allow it. Not until they had permission from those whose lands they were on. And here were such folks the now. Riders approaching, four of them. Their leader had a pennant lashed to the tip of his lance, in the colours of De Bruis, the black and yellow. "State you business" He demanded, lance tip lowered. Gently, with the top hook of his long-axe, he drew the lance point aside from his torso. "We are friends. We have business with De Bruis. I am called Bear. This is Red. We were hired to escort these two to these lands at the request of De Bruis." The cavalry leader nodded. "I was told someone was expected. Follow Me."
Following the riders, they were lead to the estates manor house, a fortified job on top of one of the highest rises. There they parted ways. The seneschal lead the two architects to the De Bruis, whilst the escorts were shown to seperate rooms where they were bathed, and fed, and watered. Following that they were shown to the rooms they had been assigned. Leaving the bulk of their weapons there, they then repaired to the patio in front of the manor. They were still there, lounging in their undertunics and watching the work go on around them, when the seneschal approached them with a summons. It was time to meet the one to whom they had delivered their charges. They were shown into a mostly bare room, with wide bay windows, shuttered with curtains of pale silk or thin cotton, and tapestries on the walls. A tall man was standing gazing out the window, his back to them. In the corner of the room, a young woman sat in a chair, concentrating on the needle-work in her lap. As the seneschal bowed and left, the man turned. "My name is Thomas De Bruis. I am lord of these lands." Standing firm and straight, not the slightest sign of servility in their poses, the pair answered him "Redjay." "Bear." De Bruis looked at them squarely. "I know. Iuliano explained much in his letter. What I want to know is why one who is in the service of the Christ is recommending to me a pair of heathen outlaws." The two companions glanced at each other. "Who says we be Infieles?" asked Bear, the spanish word the Templar used for them having caught on in his lexicon. At the same time, the Redjay asked "Who says we're Lainsajuotan?" Using the Finnish for outlaw. Both questions were rather indignant, and the lass in the corner giggled. "Iuliano" answered De Bruis. "He also says that despite that, and a tendency towards drunkeness and violence, you are good people. He even took great care to point out that whilst there are few of the commandments you will not cheerfully break, Carnal sin is not your style." At that the two outlaws grinned. They had put up with accusations of such since around the time they first met. Indeed, they had at one point almost beaten the Templar for such a belief. And for ensuring his companions had shared that belief, until they realised that the Templars they travelled with would tolerate fornication a lot more than the heathen rites the pair actually practiced.
"So," De Bruis continued. "I would like to employ you. Room and Board, a generous stipend, both for you, the former for your horses." Wary now, the two nodded. "I need to return to Jerusalem. Matters of state. My wife here," and he gestured at the woman in the chair, who nodded, "Wishes to remain here to ensure the good treatment of our people. If so, she will need bodyguards, as I have few retainers with suitable skills for such. What do you say?" The two companions glanced at each other, and then looked back to De Bruis. "Aye," they uttered simultaneously, and then Bear staggered as Red backhanded him over the face. "Very Well Then." Uttered De Bruis. "There is an oath I will require you to take. Kneel." He commanded, his voice stern. As they knelt, he drew his blade, and instructed them "Be Without Fear In The Face Of Your Enemies" The two kneeling warriors grinned. That they could do. They had long since abandoned fear of death. "Be Brave, And Upright That Your Gods May Love Thee" The grins spread. Their gods were gods of war, and bravery, and standing firm was something they and their gods understood. "Speak The Truth, Even If It Leads To Your Death" Here, the grins faltered slightly, for circumstance had forced them more than once to act to the contrary to survive, especially amongst the followers of the Christ. "Safeguard The Helpless, And Do No Wrong" The grins vanished. As Vikingr they had preyed on the helpless, even if reluctantly. "That Is Your Oath" Suddenly, De Bruis hand snapped out, lashing across Rauda's cheek. Even as her lips curved in a snarl, and she and the Bear tensed for leaps, the backhand struck the Bear on his. "And THAT, Is How You Will Remember It." Taken aback by that they paused, as he finished his speech. "Arise, Sir Jehan Bearsark, Arise Dame Rauda Redjay, Knights in the service to the Lady De Bruis." And here he turned and bowed to his lady. "Your first household knights, Milady" Whilst the two thus honoured simply gaped. He summoned his seneschal. "See to it that Milady's knights are assigned lodgings appropriate to their newfound rank. And send them to Milady once she has risen in the morning that they may come to an agreement over stipends and duties." And with that, he dismissed the two dumbstruck, newly elevated knights.

Bear's Tale

Right, This be a part of the Saga termed the Accidental Viking. So far, it be a cooperative venture between myself, one Lamia Macdonald, and one Javier Alcover. Any resemblance to actual places or historical events (In General) is entirely intentional, as is any resemblance to Actual persons...
Mostly because several of the characters are based off such folk, various friends, all of whom have volunteered. This one is set in Miklagaard (Constantinople, Byzantium, Istanbul to give it's other names) during that point where the Bear and the Redjay are serving as Varangians. Oh, As far as warnings go, blood, alcohol, violence, reference to death, some innuendo. And as far as intellectual property rights go, it belongs to Myself, Jared G. Juckiewicz, BSc... As of this date, 23rd of February, 2011


(Note. Recent Events are leading to Retconning most of the Accidental Vikingr tales set AFTER Outremer. This falls amongst those. Furthermore, to move more into keeping with the setting, certain character names are being changed. Sir Jared shall be referred to as Jehan, and Sir Javier [Where he appears] as Iuliano. Sorry...)



The Bear was drunk. Whats more the Bear was more drunk than his companion the Redjay. This had never happened before. Even she, his closest confidante, the woman who'd had his back since he was outlawed had never seen him this drunk. And they had travelled far together, across the length and breadth of England, up the coast of England and Scotland by trading cog and viking raider, then out to Norway, east through the lands of Finn, and of Svaer and of Suomi, and then south down the Dneiper to Miklagaard. They'd even sworn oath together as Varangians and taken their baptisms side by side (Something they had been forced into by the Emperor, who would not have an open heathen in his guard).
She didn't know what had set him off. She'd never seen him like this before, despite that they'd been fighting aside each other for damn near a year now. In fact, it had been exactly a year when she thought of it, and perhaps that was it. He'd left the palace alone in the morning, after making arrangements to meet at this tavern come evening. And, almost an hour late, he'd stormed in, stormed up to where the tavernkeeper plied his trade, and demanded drink. Ale, Mead, Saxon Jaeger, Rus Vodka, even Scottish Uisquebagh, he hadn't cared. Even now, he was raising a toast. Hefting his fist, tankard gripped in it high in the air, he began to bellow. 'To The Bitch and her Bounty-Hunter. Without Whom I wouldn't be where I am today.' And as he finished, he downed his full tankard in one, suds running down his face and his armour. As soon as it was empty, he slammed it down on the wooden table, and bellowed for another.
Whilst he was waiting, he sat back down, landing heavily on the chair. He leaned to his side, and began to speak to the stranger sitting there. "'Tis How I wound up here. Witch told me I was the only one for her. And here I find her carrying on with a bounty hunter. Well, I took issue, and so did he. Helped a bit that he wanted the bounty on my prisoner." and here he looked around, his head wobbling wildly, until he caught sight of the Redjay, standing back a ways with their new companion. He was a knight, a Knight Templar in fact, and had no clue that the only reason his newfound friends followed christian ways was the Varangian Guard would not take those who refused to change from the old ways. Bear pointed at her. 'It was her' he said. 'Prisoner not bitch. She's no bitch, she's a birdie. Redjay, Redjay we called her when we put the price on her head. Vicious things Redjays...' A pause here, whilst he bellowed for the tavernkeep to hurry up with his Ale. 'Where Was I? Ah, yes. Vicious things. Bounty. He tried to steal her. Already stealed one woman from me. Put an axe through him. Punched the head into his throat.' Here his ale arrived, and he took a long draught,
Wobbled a bit. Straightened up. 'Murder. Black, Bloody Murder. Not Bloody Enough. Shoulda Blood-Eagled Him. You know what the Blood-Eagle is? NO? Well, I'll no tell you. Tis a practice of Wodin. I'm not supposed to follow Old One-Eye. I'm a christian now. Christian I tell you. Says otherwise I'll fight you, Lord O' Thunder help me.' 'Twas about this point, the Redjay decided to intervene. She wandered over next to him, and stood behind him. He leaned his head back till the top of it rested on her stomach. And staring straight up at her chin, he says in a surprisingly steady tone. 'Here she is, Lady Redjay. She helped me, she did. Held off his mates, till I had to parry with my teeth. Don't step back.' It was too good an opportunity to miss. She did. And he fell. There was laughter. Much laughter. Which grew all the more when he swung his legs off the bench, grabbed the worst offender, and yanked.
Muscles raised in the guard and harden by a year of hard living, battle and travel dragged the man to the floor, and dragged the Bear to one knee. Whilst normally, the Bear was a happy drunk, something had him off colour. He didn't even bother with the man he'd just unseated, beyond putting an elbow into the mans crotch. He just stared at the others laughing, and growled low in his throat. Whilst their new companion, the spaniard called Iuliano, Peacock by his friends, didn't know him well enough to see what was coming, the Redjay did. Sadly, she was not quick enough to stop him. With one of his trademarked roars, he lept at the first table he could that had people laughing at it.
He suddenly seemed far more sober now that he had adrenaline coursing. His fists struck left and right, until the Redjay and the Peacock grabbed him from behind. They yanked him back and slammed him to the ground. 'What is with you today' The Redjay snarled at him, but he stayed silent. After a minute or two he even stopped struggling. 'Let me up. I'll not kill them.' he said softly. As he stood, shakily, he stared at her, and spoke slowly and softly. "'Twas a year ago today I learned of it. She'd sworn me oath, and she broke it. Broke them. I was already in a dark mood. And after the mockery I had before I left with you, I had no stomach for more.' Another slight pause. 'I'm sorry. I'll be off now, before I cause more trouble.' As he turned to leave, his companions, old and new followed. 'We'll get some drink, and raise a toast together, Bear.' the Redjay told him, knowing enough to not leave him alone. And with that, they set out into the street, heading back to the Varangian wing of the palace.
It had been a long walk back to the wing of the palace where the Varangians were housed. It had been made all the longer by the need to sober Jehan, the one they called Bear, up a bit. Or, in fact, a lot. He'd almost gone berserk in that last tavern, for a slight that normally he would shrug off. But in the end, they made it there. Jehan, his fellow guardsman Rauda, and the Templar Iuliano. Once they were in the luxurious rooms assigned to the two Varangians, Rauda went to fetch a skin of wine, only to be waved down by Jehan. 'I drink no more tonight.' He said. 'But I will', he continued, 'Tell you my tale, start to finish.' The three companions settled down, and made themselves comfortable, and the Varyag began. 'My Grandfather was a Norman Serjeant, his wife a Scot, from the highlands. His son was also a Serjeant, who married a Danish woman. He left on Crusade not long after I was born, and I was raised by my Grandfather who taught me how to ride and fight. My Grandmother kept me entertained with tales of the highlands, the old Celtic ways, and of the derring-do of the highland clans, rustling, fueding, and the like. As for my Mother, she taught me the Axe and the Knife, and... Religion. And they all taught me honour. Then I came of age. No Lord would take a boy, with no formal training and no experience and no gear into his service, so it was work as a labourer, turn to brigandry, or join the guard. I chose the latter. 'Twas a decent life, and as time passed, I gained many useful skills, learned to speak several tongues, and got myself betrothed. Lovely woman, worked in an Inn... you may have heard me speaking of her earlier... Anyway, I grew bored of splitting up brawls, taking pickpockets and, well the general everyday life. So, when word came that a notorious outlaw had been sighted nearby' gesturing at Rauda, 'I made sure I drew the short straw to go and arrest her. 'Twas probably for the best as I was the most skilled warrior in the guard. Well, I went out, and found the lady, and subdued her. and went to return home. By the time we started back however, it was getting late, and we were forced to put in at an inn for the night. Fortuneately, I thought, the Inn my betrothed worked at was on the way, so we stopped there. Unfortuneately, when I arrived, I found her in bed with a bounty hunter. Now, normally I'm easygoing when the insult is aimed at me. I was willing to let it pass. Until the bounty hunter tried to take my prisoner off me. And said a few things that were... unwise. So, he died. And those who fought beside him either fell or were driven off. I could not remain a guardsman after that, so we returned to my home to inform the guard I was leaving their ranks. And then we went adventuring. until we'd caused enough havoc that we needed to leave Norman lands. So we stowed aboard a cog, but it was taken by the Vikings, who we joined on accounts of our skill. And come winter, when we put back in at their home, we opted to become mercenaries rather than rely on charity. So we travelled east to Novgorod, then down the Dneiper, and then signed on with the Emperor. And then we met you.' And after he'd finished this tale, he pointed out it was late, and curled up in a corner wrapped up in his cloak.