The Upcoming War

The night was eerily peaceful and cloudless, and the sky showed a painting-like scene. The full moon shone its eerie light upon the small settlement, and the torches that were hung in different positions on the Palisade showed warriors patrolling the perimeter. They roamed but in an orderly manner, either holding a double-handed ax or a one-handed sword.

Inside the settlement, which had the houses built identically, was a special building; in the middle, a wide and bigger one; shaped in a rectangular form; this is the dining hall. The dining hall was where the Villagers gathered to eat and socialize. It was a place to share your day's thoughts and events around the table. The dining hall was the heart of the village where everyone came together.

Marked in the wooden walls, there is this intricately carved tree with roots and branches that spread towards other murals. Yggdrasill, The ash tree. From Herald's late memories, in this marking, the roots are the underworld while the branches and leaves are the heavens.

In addition to being decorated with bronze and gold ornaments, the hall was also filled with beautiful carvings. I couldn't help but stand in awe and admire the workmanship as I ran my fingers along the markings on the wall.

While I was doing that, I resumed everything I know of this period and place, first. This tribe and most of the other tribes had no writing system. The don't write, only the seers could write, and it's Runic. Yet when I introduced a written language, it just went over their heads. But, upon my orders, a school was built, a school, where I'll make them it clear to them !! how to write....

But here is the problem; no writing means no books; no books means no information. Only while pressing further and further into the memories of the Late Herald, and with some legends here and there, and thanks to other tribes' names, do I know that I'm in what will be called Germany, and what I know of History is that these Germanic people will continually raid a rising power in the further south, Rome. The problem is this: since I heard of no Christianity, that means there are two Romes. One that is still fighting with Carthage, or the other Rome, who will rise as an empire.

For my small goals, Rome presents no problem; on the contrary, if I meet the Romans, then I'll have a clear intent — to either join them or sail towards another land far away from the impending war .

And if that fails, I'll just return here with the other warmongers.

As I moved my hands away from the carvings, I took a seat at the dining table and rubbed the necklace given to me by my late mother. I was deep in thought, something my late Herald did too. The necklace was shaped like a hammer - Thor's hammer, to be exact.

I have been in this world for two months now, and I am feeling pretty comfortable; my body is healthy and I have no back pain or any pain whatsoever; on the contrary, I feel good, strong, and powerful; the only thing that I could criticize is the lack of spices in the food.

I am a modern man who is used to having everything I need at my fingertips. But here, people are just trying to survive. I saw a duel over cattle just two days after I arrived. No one cared who was right or wrong. They only wanted to be entertained. And I like it..

At first, I was intrigued by the prospect of a duel. I had seen from my new memories of the late Herald, his warriors' skill and prowess with a blade, and was excited to see them in action. However, when I saw the men fighting covered in blood, I was frozen with fear. Herald had killed many men before, but this was different. This is me!

I couldn't help but think, "They killed a man over a goat?" Yet they say he fought with honor. What honor? He's dead. While looking at the lifeless corpse of the warrior, swimming in his own pool of blood , his guts were out of his stomach from a severe slash, horrific wounds, and a shattered skull that had this gray matter oozing out of it.

As for the other man, he later succumbed to his gruesome wounds..Some still joke about this harrowing event to this day, including me. As for the goat, it was eaten in this dining hall "to honor their deaths " they chanted that day, whatever. I just didn't care; thankfully I called down after that event. I didn't want to go like that. I wanted a peaceful death just like my past life, dead without knowing how, I felt nothing, and for that I'm thankful.

"Blood and bones - that's what I thought while running my hands through the necklace. It was crude, but there was something else on my mind. "I want more," the devil whispered in my ears. My devil, yes. I have already decided to build something in here. It is my only choice. I could indeed just go south and enter Rome or sail towards other kingdoms, but the journey is long and I don't have a horse. Should I just wait until a bigger tribe comes to slave us to the last child? No, no. I'll do something! I'll build something! I don't know how to make bricks or make gunpowder. All I know is war tactics and cold weapons. As for the rest! All I need to do is raid some Roman cities and slave their working men..

For now, I'll just wage war upon this land until I become its undisputed ruler! Until no one could hurt me or stand in my way! Until no one could point his sword towards me in defiance.

My only hope is to find a sliver of peace in a place where it doesn't exist.

[Quoted from the famous book 'Tyranny In the Flesh':

"These are just a few of the words that have been used to describe Herald Froe throughout history. He was a controversial figure, and his actions have been debated by historians for centuries. Now, a new letter

Had been unearthed by a team of archeologists. Unfortunately , from the said letter, only two sentences were readable, while we can ignore one of the mysteries of this empire, of how Latin was spread in this empire.

These two sentences made us take a closer look at the life of a governor, and how he, Herald Froe, came to be one of the most feared conquerors of all time.

"vita semper de agendi ---hypocrita, sanguinarius, consideras vitam sicut viriditas, honorem non habes ----

" It read, while we don't know why the governor was criticizing his king as the letter wasn't complete , we can only hypotheses about what happened.]

Suddenly I heard rushed footsteps from the hallway; they were heavy and slow. I knew there were only two people who walked this way, Bo and Harald. The lack of cursing or booming laughter meant it was likely Bo.

The entry point of the dining hall is behind my seat, the main seat of the chief; without turning back I asked in Norse: "Why the sudden rush, Bo?"

"Yadrick is dead!" Bo's voice is usually soothing and clear; yet now it isn't, rough and close to shouting; he continues "His friend saw who did it!"

I nervously rubbed my necklace and asked, "Who?" In a calm and serene tone, keeping my emotions in check, I showed only my poker face; yet I was too nervous to notice that I wasn't looking at Bo. While on the inside, I was close to freaking out. "It's still night. They shouldn't have discovered his corpse yet. Damnit! I shouldn't have given Hans the orders. I should have waited."

"He said that someone came up from behind him and slit his throat! THis friend of his swore to me that, even though it was dark, he saw the man's back covered by his round shield. It has the mark of the Suardones Tribe!!"

Releasing a deep sigh of relief, I finally turned towards Bo, and glared fiercely at him! "Tell the warriors that tomorrow at first light, we go and get vengeance for our kin," I shouted, making spit fly towards the heavy man. The man in question is one of the best friends my father ever had. He's charismatic and easy going. I've never seen him shout or curse, except for in a rare battle where he was forced to fight against a woman.

Bo! was a man way ahead of his time , thanks to his father he had , and what he did he swore not to do what his father did to any women except in Battle.

Dressed in tattered, old, leathery clothes with a worn linen one underneath, Bo's face was symmetrical, with thick, short , blonde hair that was shaved on the sides. His eyebrows were shaped like Persian daggers making his blue eyes special, and his nose was thin like his lipless mouth. He wore different kinds of ornaments, like the silver bracelet or the necklace that was shaped like a hammer. The difference is that it wasn't carved like mine.

Looking at his tattered and dirty clothes, I made a mental note to do something about it later. My people were occupied with the building and the settlement rush; they didn't have the time to make new clothes. It seems that furs and pelts are already growing to a mountain from all the hunting we did.

The people of this age are not as unhygienic as one might think; in fact, they always bathe in the river and wash their clothes there, too. They are also quite artistic, since they enjoy working with their hands, whether it's carving on their weapons or their homes.

I stared at his back for a few moments longer, looking at his broad shoulders and muscular build, until he vanished into the darkness. I decided to call it a night and go to bed, but I couldn't get that image out of my mind. "Did he notice something?" I asked myself inwardly, as when I was speaking to him, his eyes were like cold, hard daggers that saw through to my soul. I shrugged it off as paranoia as I made my way towards my house.

Yet, even up to that day, I never knew that my fears would cease to exist. I never knew that my fears of a fearsome death, my fears of being betrayed, my fears of simply being weak would all disappear.