Henry’s day didn’t end with the Sun God Company. He still had an infinite number of issues to address. Building the foundation of his kingdom ant addressing more than just the economy. There were other pressing matters, things equally, if not more, important than trade and only mining.
After finishing his eting with the agents, Henry headed toward the Northern Gate. The streets were alive with activity, but quieted as he passed. Snow workers had done their jobs well, clearing the endless layers of frost from the avenues and narrow streets. People paused in their work or conversations, lowering their heads in respect as he walked by. Even the barbarians, who were still adjusting to their new roles in this structured society, mimicked the gesture. Henry could see more and more of them as he walked north, few of the original residents mingled between them.
"How is their situation?" Henry asked, his voice cutting through the silence of the avenue. He didn’t slow his stride, his eyes scanning the figures around him. Luke, the small midget, was nearly jogging to keep up. His arms were full, clutching an unwieldy stack of parchnts to his chest. His short legs struggled to match the king’s pace, leaving him slightly out of breath, but he managed to respond.
Luke glanced at the barbarians gathered along the avenue, their heads bowed in silence as Henry passed. So of them still had blood on their knuckles, while others had blood dripping from their nose or teeth missing. Their huge and muscular fras, coupled with a long hair, set them apart from most citizens of Stahl. And, because they had ample access to the fur within the Frozen Forest, their clothes were even better then most rchants within the capital. If you looked at their clothes only, outsiders might think that they were rich rchants or nobles.
"The other residents are still acting with prejudice" - Luke said, adjusting the stack of parchnts he clutched tightly, struggling to keep them balanced - "But it has lessened over the last few months. The trade initiatives and Gedhe’s role as the Frozen Agent have allowed so sort of communication between them" - He shifted the papers again, regretting not bringing soone to help him carrying these docunts - "However, their habits… they still unsettle people. They are brutal."
At Luke’s words, Henry’s eyes shifted to a nearby group of barbarians, also noticing the blood and the broken teeth and swollen jaws. It wasn’t just n either, even the won carried all sorts of injuries. Despite that, they all seed to move without an ounce of pain.
Luke tried to keep his eyes forward, sowhat uneasy to keep staring at them. He leaned closer to Henry, speaking in a hushed tone, just loud enough for the king to hear - "They fight all the ti," he said, his voice tinged with frustration. "Once, I ca out around midnight to inspect a problem near North Avenue. And, they were gathered in a circle, yelling and cheering. I saw this young guy, he didn’t even have an arm, beating another man to a pulp."
Luke paused, swallowing as his mory replayed the scene. "When it was over, they just lit a fire, sat around it like nothing had happened, laughing and drinking beer." He hesitated before adding, "The drinking, fine, that’s… normal. But the fighting? It’s constant. I returned from now and then and they didn’t stop for a single night."
His eyes flicked toward the barbarians, careful not to linger too long. They had already bowed once to the king, showing the respect expected of them, but now they moved on, talking and working like they hadn’t just co from a fight. Their bloodied hands and battered faces didn’t seem to bother them at all.
"I heard about that from Gedhe," Henry nodded. Unlike Luke, he didn’t shy away from staring directly at the bloodied barbarians, who had already turned their backs to him, continuing on without waiting for the king’s figure to vanish from sight. "It’s sothing they do every night to honor their ancestors. They also use it to resolve grievances among themselves. In the Frozen Forest, a lack of unity could an death. They fight until the blood spilled between them washes away their differences. This tradition, I believe, is one of the reasons they managed to survive in such a hostile environnt."
"Oh I heard about that from Gedhe" - Henry said, unlike Luke, he stared straight at the bloodied barbarians, who had already given his back to him, not waiting for his figure to disappear in the horizon - "It’s so sort of ritual to honor their ancestors and resolve any kind of grievances between them. It’s quite a smart way to resolve any issues within a short ti fra, not allowing blood feuds to be ford and destroy their villages. In the Frozen Forest, they had to act as a single entity, any lack of unity ant death. I believe that this tradition is one of the reasons they managed to survive in that place."
Henry gestured toward one barbarian, his hands dripping with blood, laughing with another whose nose was clearly broken but who grinned as if nothing was amiss. -"It keeps them cohesive as a society, but more than that, it hones their fighting skills. They learn how to strike and how to endure hits."
Luke frowned but said nothing, still avoiding looking directly at the barbarians. Henry, however, remained unbothered by the blood or the ferocity, his thoughts drifting toward the similarities between the cultures of Earth and this world.
The barbarians’ tradition of honoring their ancestors and settling disputes was similar to the ancient Nordic holmgang, a duel practiced by the Vikings to resolve conflicts, legal matters, and matters of honor. In the holmgang, almost any personal issue could be settled within a marked stone ring. The combatants would fight until one was killed, seriously injured, or surrendered. If soone refused to show up for the duel, usually held three to seven days after the challenge, they were declared an outcast, losing their honor and respect. Those who ran away were called niðingr, a coward.
By modern standards, the holmgang would seem brutal and violent. But it served a purpose at the ti. It stopped feuds from growing into long, bloody conflicts that could tear entire families or communities apart. Instead of ongoing fights, the holmgang offered a quick and final resolution. Over ti, as societies developed better laws, the holmgang was no longer needed and was outlawed, first in Iceland in 1006, and later in Norway in 1014.
"They should at least do sothing like this in the training grounds," Luke muttered, his voice low as he adjusted again the stack of parchnts in his arms. "Or at least sowhere more appropriate. It is unsettling to think that soone might find a body in these streets one morning because things got out of hand."
At Luke’s words, Henry’s eyes flickered with sudden inspiration. A mory from Earth flashed vividly in his mind, a Roman amphitheater, its grand arches towering above a cheering crowd, where people gathered to watch combat and revel in spectacle - "Bread and circuses" - he thought, the philosophy of keeping the masses entertained while maintaining order.
He looked back at the barbarians but quickly shook his head. "Having them perform these traditions in the open… for everyone to see. It could work. It might even provide a form of entertainnt in this harsh region. Sothing to lighten the monotony…" His voice trailed off, his thoughts deepening. Then, as if struck by lightning, he halted abruptly.
Luke, walking too close behind and struggling with the weight of the parchnts, bumped into Henry’s back, nearly dropping his entire stack - "Apologies, my liege" - Luke muttered, scrambling to steady the docunts. Yes, he was having trouble with it. He should have ordered soone to carry it.
Henry waved off the apology, his mind clearly elsewhere. Without looking back, he asked, "How many conquered soldiers refused to yield and are still locked up in the castle’s prison?"
Luke paused, blinking at the unexpected question. "Around five hundred, my king. It could be slightly more or less."
A slow, calculating smile spread across Henry’s face, his gaze sharpening as a plan began to take shape in his mind. "Good," he said softly, more to himself than to Luke - "Let’s et Luna first."
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