Haakon quietly helped Jilahd don his armor as the king contemplated the previous day's events. One king was gone and another had to be crowned. Hismena was right, they couldn't allow the enemy to win this fight, but his influence there was limited. He had to at least vow his support for whatever Kavan needed to help root out this festering disease that had been allowed to grow.
His mind returned to the here and now as the heavy, fur lined cloak was draped over his plated shoulders. A nod to his man-at-arms as the older warrior backed and bowed in respect, then Jilahd walked out of the pavilion and allowed his men to begin preparing for their departure while he attended one last meeting in the market square. As he strode through the camp, he wondered who's city had been razed and by whom. No names had been given but, one thing that was clear, whoever it was had died and that was enough. With a fierce determination, he glanced upward into the blue sky.
"Whatever dangers you wish me to quell, guide my steps that my friend's name is reclaimed from this enemy. Let the trumpets of Varangia sound the death of these murderers, that they know their end is near. I ask that my last breath be after taking the head of their leader, if it is your wish."
Green eyes glowed as he walked to the edge of the seated assembly and glanced to Hismena as she stood in the center of the grassy yard.
"It's long been the dream of our enemies abroad to keep us divided," Hismena began. "For millennia, we've fought one another in countless battles for glory against our own brothers. I say those days are at an end. A new day has dawned this morning. A festering cancer has found it's way into our cities and will soon be vanquished. This religion of darkness will not be allowed to find a home in our land, nor will it's followers find haven in our halls. Heroes fought and died on this ground that you've slept on for the past few days. They call to us to a day of glory where men of De Haan and Chatelet can once again sail together. Find riches and trade in far away lands instead of eyeing one another in suspicion. We have a legacy to find once more. Reclaim our name and heritage from our forefathers who drink to those days in the halls of Aesir. I say, today begins one empire. Two kingdoms of families to govern lands beyond our borders, to stand together against enemies that would keep us separated." She turned to Jilahd. "I put forth Jilahd's name for High King of Varangia. Lord Kavan, son of Blane for King of Chatelet and Gerlach, son of Jilahd as King of De Haan. What say this council?"
Jilahd stood numb as the proclamation sank in, yet outwardly he remained still and confident. Soon, men gave their votes on the idea, some presented their own name for the three positions, but were soon dismissed by the council for one reason or another. Most just wanted peace between the two kingdoms finally and a chance to turn their efforts outward again. For what seemed like hours, the debate raged until Hismena got her way.
He grinned to himself, proud of what had been decided and that he still held such prestige among the nobility of both lands. Hismena claimed her seat and motioned to him to the center. "Jilahd, stand before this council." He complied as everyone watched and turned his attention to the ten oracles seated before him. "Take a knee, Sire." As he knelt, Hismena stood and approached as the rest followed suit also. She extended her staff which now glowed a brilliant blue that seemed to give life to the multitude of horses carved down it's length and touched him on the right shoulder. "In confidence of these lands, you are hereby named High King of Varangia, Lord Protector of Haltiatinturi and Gatekeeper of Dirge. You will from this day execute the office that you were born to until claimed to Aesir." She then backed and all took a knee, "Rise Sire."
Humbled, Jilahd stood and still wasn't sure if he was dreaming this or not. "You all honor me greatly this day," he turned and made sure his eyes met everyone present. "I vow to uphold this honor until my last breath in the traditions of our people. You have my word."
* * *
Once the feast was completed, Jilahd moved to return home as Hismena stepped through the crowd and in his path. "You'll be met in Brynmar by your fleet and army. You need to go with these dukes to Chatelet and announce yourself to the people there. Once the troublemakers are brought to justice, muster the men there and sail out with them to meet your sons."
He wanted to object, to see his wife again, but realized that his new position would claim more of his time than he may want. Nodding, he grinned. "Thank you for your confidence and guidance over the years," his deep voice replied. "In case we never see one another in this life again, I look forward to welcoming you in the Halls."
Grinning warmly, Hismena approached and hugged him tightly. An act that was very seldom seen from the oracle whose tenure in his home kingdom had outlasted many kings. "I may be welcoming you, Sire," she smiled and backed. "But, that is not for now. You have an empire to begin and a name to reclaim from the shadows."
Jilahd's face melted as he realized the truth and weight of those words. "Then I should get started. Tell my queen that I see her in my dreams."
"I will."
After three weeks of riding, the large entourage of the High King continued over the long bridge that joined the king's palace with the large and impressive city of Chatelet. He had sent a large contingent of dukes and their men ahead to begin the purge of enemy sorcerers from their cities and bring those criminals to justice. Once that was done, muster their men for a voyage to meet in the port city of Vaggeryd in three weeks. That should give them just enough time to reach Brynmar in Vyg Bay and his army.
As the clop of horses hooves echoed in the gatehouse, they emerged in the bailey and Jilahd noticed Kavan standing with a fair sized group before the steps of his new palace.
"Chatelet greets our High King," the booming voice greeted as Kavan bowed respectfully along with his nobles and family.
"Thank you," Jilahd replied with renewed enthusiasm as he dismounted and handed off his reins to Haakon and approached. "It's good to see you well."
Nodding, Kavan's jet black hair had greyed considerably since Jilahd had seen him last, but two years could do that sometimes. "Thank you for your recommendation to the throne, Sire. It was unexpected, to say the least."
"I couldn't think of anyone better to help return this kingdom to it's glory again. I'm sorry you had to see it's decline." He turned his attention to the other nobles beyond the new king and realized that most were distant relatives of Kavan's and it didn't take long to determine why. He had suffered more than was previously thought. "If you need anything while I'm here, you have but to ask, my friend."
"Much appreciated, but I think the magistrates and local lords are more than up to the task. Priests and the oracles are also ensuring that we find all of them. It shouldn't take long." He turned and motioned towards the front doors. "Won't you come inside? Wilhem, see to the King's men."
"Yes, sir."
They talked politics for some time as dinner was prepared and finally walked to the Great Hall whose columns were also carved in the Varangian tradition of stylized horses heads supporting capitals which in turn strengthened the large oak beam ceiling high above. Lit by a multitude of glowing lights uniformly posted around a dual wheel suspended from two central beams, the long tables and bench seats were also warmed by the immense hearth that commanded the left wall.
Once seated, Jilahd leaned over to his new counterpart. "I'm going to be calling on your nobles for an expedition soon."
"I know, Sire. Chatelet is more than ready for a chance to gain glory," Kavan raised his pewter tankard in salute, then drank. "I was informed by my cousin when they arrived and he's seeing to the supplies and ships as we speak."
After a long drought from the large mug, adorned with embossed scenes of battle, Jilahd smiled. "I look forward to this mission. It's been too long."
In the traditions of their people, Jilahd enjoyed the revelry with his extended family well into the night. Dancing, story telling as well as feasting filled his belly while his huscarl kept close watch on everyone that neared their charge until he stumbled up to his room and collapsed into the large, feather bed and fell asleep. Music and laughter of the multitude of female companions echoed in his mind long after his eyes closed.
The next two weeks were full of overseeing the arrests and executions of several high ranking nobles who had found a way to infiltrate the monarchy. Most younger and full of fire until the end, they met their demise the same way that Harald had that fateful day. With screaming and the horrid chill in the air as black winged females in dark armor claimed another soul whom they dragged into the unknown and disappeared.
As the days for their departure neared, he found a quiet desk in the study and penned a letter.
"My Dearest Anna. I long to be in your arms again but, destiny has again guided me on another journey to which I'm anxious to discover. I'm still unsure of my ultimate destination but, know that my heart and thoughts are ever with you. This new position that I've been given also brings you new prestige as well. Something I know you don't eagerly seek out, but know that I'll still need your continuing needling and wisdom before bad decisions, instead of in our chambers afterwards. Give our children my love and tell them that no matter where the Aesir lead, they are still our descendents and members of a proud family line that goes back generations. I expect them to keep that in mind. I hope to see you again soon. Yours always, Jilahd."
He reread it a few times before folding it up, then laying melted wax over it and sealing it with his ring. Once done, large hands carefully shoved it within a round, leather case and then capped it and handed it to his royal messenger, Gireg, who took it and quickly departed the room. As he rested within the quiet room, staring out to the high, book filled shelves of dark wood, he wondered again who had been lost. Word had reached him of Duke Lericanin and his wife as well as Sir Allaster and Lina. Surely the king of Davos would've responded to the loss of Zariva or Carbost, so who else could've been dispatched so easily?
He sighed. No sense in wracking his brain over it now, time would tell him soon enough.
Footsteps echoed on the stone floor and approached the doorway as Jilahd turned to recognize Haakon. "Sire, they're ready to depart."
"Very well," he nodded and pushed himself up, then joined his captain as they walked out into the daylight where armored men scrambled in every direction as the army of Chatelet prepared to march with their new High King.
Busy with the multitude of wagons, carts, soldiers and dockworkers, the port's bustling traffic nearly overwhelmed Jilahd as he dismounted with Haakon and his men. Looking over what seemed like madness, he grinned in appreciation at the logistics of such an endeavor. Many bowed and cleared a path for the High King and his entourage of two hundred along with their prized horses.
"Long live the King," someone shouted which was repeated over and over. Seagulls leapt into the air to escape the fervor and Jilahd noticed a cluster of crates and barrels which adrenaline pushed his older body to leap up upon, then turn to face the crowd.
"Friends of Chatelet," he yelled, arms outstretched. "Witness the returned glory of Varangia around you. We embark on a mission that has been given us by the Aesir themselves. No longer will our names be remembered only in our own lands, by our families. But, today begins a new age. The world will be reminded that the Great Men of the North have returned! Our blades will seek out the enemy, not matter where they hide and root them out! Glory will be ours once again!" Cheers erupted nearly shaking the wooden planks of the dock itself and he suddenly feared the power at his fingertips. Even his own guard were elated and he realized that if he didn't get them on the longship soon, they may take out their enthusiasm on the crowd instead and dropped down.
"It's an honor to be serving with you, Sire," Haakon smiled broadly.
"And you, my friend."
* * *
Standing on the raised step at the bow, wind at his back which blew his long, silvery hair around his shoulders, Jilahd glanced back to the armada of over five hundred and seventy ships whose square sails reached to the horizon. A mass of men and material which had been summoned for a great cause.
"Impressive, isn't it, Sire," Haakon commented as he stood nearby, one hand on the supporting line for the single mast.
"It is indeed." Pride swelled knowing he was given this opportunity to lead his people on an adventure. "It seemed like just a short time ago that I sailed to Nordkapp with friends that I haven't seen in a long time."
"I as well, Sire. Grimnir has blessed you for many years," the stout warrior stated as he turned back to eye Jilahd. "And that hasn't ended yet, nor will it."
Jilahd grinned. "Let's hope I don't lose their favor."
Their trip was long and arduous, braving high seas once rounding the northernmost point at Nordkapp, then on west and south, keeping the majestic Tortosa Range on the horizon. Two heavy storms claimed five ships and nearly a hundred men, but they pressed on southward. It wasn't long before sighting merchant vessels of the Astaran Empire which fled back westward upon seeing the square sailed fleet, no doubt to save their own skins as well as warn their king. Aargau had been a favorite target for Varangian raiders over the centuries, yet these days had found a peace. At least with De Haan. Though, Jilahd assumed that many raiders out on their own took any opportunities that availed themselves without bragging too loudly around their king when they got home.
Nearing the end of the two weeks, Jilahd noticed land on the horizon. Brynmar was in sight.
"My lord," Haakon called, then pointed westward. Jilahd looked that way and soon noticed the lateen sails of a warship heading to intercept them. Brave men, he thought.
"Head to catch them before one of the other ships does."
"Aye," Haakon then turned to the stern and the helmsman. "Hard to starboard!" Not long after, the longest vessel in the fleet leaned to the right and cut through the dark blue waves. Most of the flanking ships turned with him while those farther to port continued on to Brynmar.
Soon, he recognized the red flag and black stag's head in the center as a ship of Glarus, another Astaran kingdom south of Aargau and now west of their location.
"Lower the sail," Jilahd commanded as the brig closed within three hundred yards.
Haakon hesitated for a moment, then gave the command. Once several of the huscarl manned several ropes, he walked up to the king. "Sire, if they found out who you were, they may..."
"They don't mean to fight. If they did, they would've brought more than one ship against us." Haakon had a point though. Jilahd had used this same tactic more than once in his lifetime. Something his father taught him. Use any strategy within grasp to get what you want. Subtlety wasn't normally a Varangian trait, but it did come in handy once in a while.
Soon, the brig lowered her sails as his ship rowed closer, then turned to port as the two vessels closed. Green eyes noticed one of the opposing crewmen wore a brown velvet hat which sported a red plume from it which raised his right hand in salute. "Hail," he yelled.
Jilahd mimicked the gesture. "Hail. What brings you out this far?" Peacock.
"The king of Glarus means to know your business in these waters. Whether for peace or war. What shall I tell him?"
"Tell your king that this fight isn't against Astara. Had I meant to do so, I would've started in Aargau. I have no intentions in this land."
The captain nodded as he glanced down the length of the longship which was twice the brig's length. "Then, I wish you safe passage to wherever you're headed." His hands rested on his sword and belt. "Who shall I tell my king is visiting?"
"Jilahd, High King of Varangia," Haakon proudly boasted. "Run back to your hole, peacock," he continued in Varangian which prompted a eruption of laughter from the soldiers onboard.
Jilahd smiled as the captain nervously stood there, probably pissing himself. "Tell your king, I wish him long life and good fortune," he extended, then waved and looked to Haakon. "Raise sail and on to Brynmar."
"Aye, Sire." In moments, the lower draft vessel turned and left the slower brig to lumber back home. It wasn't long before he noticed his fleet from home crowding the shoreline and dock at the walled city. This was going to be fun.
As his armada was unloading their horses and gear, Jilahd jumped down onto the soft beach and walked towards the walls of Brynmar. It didn't take long for him to recognize the thunder of hooves heading his way and glanced through the sparse pine to see four riders, two of them his own sons. A sight that brought a smile to his face as Gerlach and Amund reined in their steeds alongside two others on smaller, normal sized mares. And smelling of perfume.
"Hail, father," Amund slid off of his saddle as the rest followed suit and quickly strode to him. Jilahd grabbed both of his sons in a bear hug. Being in their forties, they were still his children.
"Good to see you both," Jilahd laughed as they backed, then turned aside as Gerlach motioned to their host.
"Father, this is Baron Miles Gerard of Brynmar and his chamberlain, Sir Albert."
"It's an honor to have you with us, Sire," the baron greeted and bowed. "I've been looking forward to your visit for some time."
"I hope my men haven't made too big of a mess of your town," Jilahd smiled and shook the man's hand which was engulfed by the larger and stronger one.
"Not at all. Though the supplies of food are running low, I'm afraid. How long will you be staying?"
"Only a day, we have a job to do."
Miles straightened, "Oh. Well then, my home is yours," he motioned to the castle.
"Many thanks." Jilahd turned as Haakon approached with his horse and led the rest of his royal guard. Once saddled, he rode up to his new escorts as they also mounted and followed them through the immense tent city now commanding every open space between farms and the main road. "How was your journey here," he asked Gerlach, now king of De Haan and his eldest surviving son.
"Lost four ships and around a hundred and twenty were claimed by the sea."
Jilahd nodded quietly, then turned his attention back to the encampment as warriors stood and bowed to him as he rode by. They looked bored, which was a bad thing. "About the same here. How long have you been in Brynmar?"
"Four days now."
He glanced up into the sky and noticed the sun was fairly high, then glanced to the gatehouse as they approached. "Have your men begin carrying the boats south to the Linder River. We'll follow with ours tomorrow." A comment that gained the baron and chamberlain's attention immediately.
"Yes, father." Both sons reined back around to carry out the order and begin their march southward.
Smells of cookfires, forges and all the multitude of other products of civilization hit him as they passed into the main street of the city. Homes rose two and three stories and hemmed in the central thoroughfare as they rode through the crowd whose nervous faces watched the newcomer and his fearsome entourage pass by.
"Carry your ships, my lord," Miles said in disbelief. "That's a few days ride south to the river." His right hand rose in defense. "I don't mean to discount their ability, but...is that possible?"
Jilahd turned and smiled to his host. "You'd be amazed what these men are capable of."
That evening, Jilahd stood on the small patio overlooking the port and sea beyond. Mug in hand, the baron stood with him as they watched the Varangian army tie hewn trees below and along the keel of each vessel, then lift them in time and lay each beam onto the backs of their horses now lined up down each side, then as one, carry the longships from the shoreline and head southward out of sight beyond the city walls.
"Had I not seen this with my own eyes, I would never have believed it," the baron stated in disbelief.
Jilahd laughed, "This has been done many times on campaigns in the past. We build our ships light, yet strong enough to go anywhere we need to get to quickly." He raised his tankard and took in a drink of the beer he was offered. Not bad, for humans. Dwarven ale was a delicacy not often enjoyed and he hoped an opportunity would avail itself while near the Black Mountains.
"Whoever has gained your ire, I hope they've made peace with their gods."
Pride quickly turned to disdain. "I hope they dig their graves before we arrive."
* * *
After a restless sleep, Jilahd awoke to the continued sound of activity in the dock below and outside the seaside gate. Sunlight caught the stone rail beyond the gently flowing curtain and announced a new day which prompted him to sit up. He determined that they would get information in Fletcher's Point and let fate guide him from there. If Zariva or Carbost had been taken, he would march to the liberation of those towns, but he needed to find out first. No doubt, the king of Davos wouldn't be very happy about the newcomers. He should pen a letter first stating his intentions.
Once dressed, he descended the long staircase into the main hall and headed towards the Great Hall where he found Baron Gerard conferring with his wife. A slightly attractive brunette whose brown eyes smiled at him as he approached, prompting the baron to turn and greet him as well.
"Morning, Sire. Did you sleep well," Miles inquired.
"I did. I was hoping for some parchment and quill. I need to pen a letter."
"Of course..."
"I'll get those for you, Sire," Lady Rebecca curtsied, then departed as Jilahd continued to the nearest table and sat down.
"She's a good woman," he grinned to the baron as Miles sat down as well.
"Yes, she is. She has a sister that's unmarried, if..."
"No," Jilahd raised a hand. "I'm married."
"But your home is far away and you've been traveling for some time now. Men have needs, Sire."
Jilahd grinned as his left hand went to the necklace buried within his braided beard. "They do, and if you think that something like that would go forgotten, then clearly you've never met a Varangian woman."
Miles chuckled. "I've heard stories, Sire."
"Stories are meant to amuse or laud the heroics of a warrior. Our women sponsor different visions, indeed."
A long silence lingered as servants brought baked bread, meat and bacon then set the various dishes out before both men as Haakon and his royal guard filtered in and joined the chamberlain at the many tables.
"If I may," the baron began. "Where are you headed?"
Jilahd glanced at the inquisitive noble for a long moment. "Still not sure actually. But, we'll know soon enough."
"I..I'm not sure I understand."
"The Aesir sent me on this quest. They guide as they will," he informed and continued eating.
Miles nodded. "Well, if there's anything I can help with, just say the word."
Once the letter was away, he joined his guard as they hefted the longship out of the water and would've carried on their own shoulders had he not commanded them to allow the horses to help. Strong mounts were bred not only for battle, but also doubled as draft horses when needed.
As he bowed his back and wrapped his arms around the beam, he walked with his men as farmers of Brynmar along with the soldiers and nobles looked on in awe as the last of the Varangian army left them behind. Several other crews and their ships followed behind and down the highway. He felt for the merchant caravans that had to try and make a path through the grass alongside the caravan of ported ships heading in the opposite direction. One boy peeking out from underneath a tarp and behind barrels made Jilahd laugh aloud. His father or uncle looked on, wide-eyed as he held the reins to the team of horses now pulling his own wagon. Local kids followed them for some time that day, until getting too far from their homes and they turned back. He only hoped the Varangian example didn't end up getting some of them hurt trying to be as heroic.
As the sun arced in the sky, they soon took a break and hefted the weight from their horses as well. He turned to Haakon now stretching his back. "Give the order down the line to make camp and get some rest."
"Aye, milord."
As his captain moved down the length of the caravan, Jilahd moved to his own massive, smoke grey horse and removed the tack and harness. "You did well this day, old friend. Many more days ahead though." The snort as the massive head nodded forcefully, long black hair swaying wildly as he stomped into the packed road meant the horse was ready for more. An act that made Jilahd laugh and forget his sore shoulders for a while.
Soon, he heard his royal guard in the forest, grunting with exertion which prompted the king to lead his horse around the ship's bow and soon notice the berserker's wrestling against the large oak throughout the woodline. He shook his head knowing the men were only teased with today's exercise and left them alone while he moved beyond them in search of fresh water.
It wasn't long before a large pond came into view and he moved through the dense foliage to it and noticed several others leading their horses here as well. Once at it's bank, he stripped off his shirt and knelt down to wash. Hands together, he splashed several times on his face and neck which matted his long beard and hair to his face. Lowering his right hand to drink, he noticed a scene in the lapping water. A city burned. It's homes up the side of a mountain spouted flames from every window and through their rooves as black armored demons raced through, tearing down everything in their path until reaching a large castle resting on a small island. They leaped from the moat's bank and onto the walls, killing everyone that stood in their way, then jumped inside to claim the keep itself and open the gate for the rest. Screams in the night mixed with the rising dark smoke and the sight gave him chills.
Backing from the scene as darkness faded into shades of blue, he had finally been given some clue as to his destination. And the revelation made him sick. Sobered, he resumed filling his waterskin, then returned to the ship and his men.
* * *
After seven days, they finally reached the Linder River and put their longships within, then loaded their horses and gear and rowed southward towards the Valga Sea. Keeping his shield nearby, Jilahd retained his post at the bow and kept a sharp eye on both banks, waiting for bowmen to spring out of the forest at any moment, but none came. Sailing narrow, shallow rivers was the only time a fleet would be vulnerable to attack.
Torchlight soon emerged beyond on the left bank and he straightened as he moved to the port side of the large dragon's head commanding the prow. Soon, a group of five armored men stood before their horses and seemed to be waiting for him.
"Haakon, closer to the port shore. As close as you dare."
"Aye, Sire." He relayed the command, then walked up to the king's side. "Welcoming us to their land, perhaps?"
"Possibly." He hoped that his sons and the forward ships weren't being ambushed, but saw no signal arrow and dismissed the concern. Once within shouting distance, he leaned out. "Hail!"
"You be King Jilahd?"
"I am. Who wishes to know?"
"Lord Anders, of the duke's court in Anderlues. What brings the Varangians to our kingdom?"
"Just passing through, friend. I'm on my way to the Valga and south from there."
The noble scanned further to his right and the other longships coming into view from the darkness. "To sack Davos, perhaps? Or the Kuzomen cities?"
"Neither. To visit a friend and help them."
The knight and his entourage walked along the bank to keep in range of his ship. "Quite an entourage for a visit, Sire. I hope these friends aren't elven."
A comment that caught Jilahd offguard. "Why do you say that? I thought Astara and Kevelaer were friends."
"No longer. The queen of Kevelaer has gained an appetite for war lately. Three of our cities burned in the Midlands. The Empress has sent her armies south to meet them."
He remained stunned for a long moment, the news seeming a lie. It didn't make sense. "What prompted the elves to attack you? That hasn't happened since the First Dark Age."
"Not sure. Perhaps they missed their old cities."
Jilahd nodded. "Thank you for the news." He waved and the knight bowed to him, then turned and led his men back to their mounts, then rode away. "This doesn't make sense to me."
"Perhaps we'll discover more once we reach our destination, Sire."
Once reaching the mouth of the Linder, they finally spied a welcome sight, the Valga Sea now stretched out before them. To the starboard side, the rich trade city of Doische rested, it's port fat with large caravels and other vessels. Jilahd knew that they had to press on or this city would never be the same again and he didn't want to have to return to this port and have to fight his way through to get back north again. Only the captain's of each ship would go into town for food and supplies, then come right back to their crewmen and anchor outside the fortified jetty.
Jilahd glanced to Haakon and his men as they rowed closer to the busy dock. They wouldn't let him go in alone, nor could he risk his captain going in alone. Green eyes glanced to the slip cleared for each of the longships that took turns mooring, then departing soon after, he noticed a group of paladin eyeing the command ship as it approached.
"Sire, I can go. I have enough gold for supplies, though it isn't our way to be buying..."
"I'll go. I need to find out more about what's going on down south anyway."
Haakon reluctantly nodded. "As you wish." As lines went out, two of his guard jumped onto the extended dock and tied the ship to the raised posts, then pulled it in closer as Jilahd moved up on the rail, then jumped onto the wooden planks himself and strode towards the knights in black and gold tabards. The Order of the Golden Scepter was always well informed.
"Good day," he greeted as they eyed his men warily. "I was hoping to gain some information on the fighting to the south."
The middle aged paladin nodded his head in respect. "Kevelaer has conducted a campaign against the Promised. Unfortunately, they've killed thousands of our people while doing it. Mellerud and Onebro were long known to support the heathen, but the other three towns burned out, we're not so sure."
Things became a bit clearer now. "I see. Then the fight is over?"
"Our armies are poised near their border but, I've heard through my prayers this morning that the fighting has stopped, yes. I believe the Empress has sent an envoy to declare terms. Arhus will settle this affront to his people but, we should know shortly."
"Hmm." He didn't bother asking why the elves would hate the underground movement so. And he didn't want to hear any more religious dogma right now, especially from someone this zealous. He respected their beliefs, and that was enough.
"What brings you to our city?"
"Just buying supplies, then we're on our way."
He nodded. "Then I'll not keep you any longer."
"He's disrespected you, Sire," Haakon spat in Varangian. "Allow me to remove his head."
"No. Buy what we need and let us leave this place," he commanded, then turned and headed back to the ship and waited for Haakon's return.
* * *
After another week at sea, they finally saw the coastline stretch out before them and recognized the heraldry of Davos on two ships heading east and away from them. No doubt there would be more inquiries as to the presence of such a large fleet but, he had other things to tend to. As they neared the shoreline, he leaped into the water and helped pull the vessel onshore and up the beach. The men unloaded their horses and gear, then began mustering to march. Jilahd headed southward as his men gathered behind and around him until he found his sons as well as the dukes from both De Haan and Chatelet that were with him.
"We're going to be heading into the Black Mountains from here. I know an old pathway that will keep any unwanted attention from us and hopefully help avoid climbing the higher peaks. We'll camp near Sucaeva once we reach the ruins and go from there."
"We're ready, Sire," Sir Bithik, his nephew from the barony of Koski replied.
Jilahd smiled and clamped a large hand on the warrior's shoulder. "It's finally a worthy task set before us. And we're very near our goal." He looked through the myriad of bearded faces looking back at him and was amazed at how many of them were direct family.
The army formed up and now mounted, rode from their ships to the south. Gerlach and Amund to either side of him within the long column.
"Have the Aesir given you any more visions, father," Amund asked.
"They showed me the town that was sacked some weeks ago. Yes." His mind returned to the scene of carnage which renewed his rage.
"Is it anyone that we know," Gerlach inquired.
"No." He shook his head. "You never met them, but I've spoken of them before. Friends of long ago."
"I'm glad we'll be able to be there to put them to rest, finally," Gerlach replied.
"I as well."
Lush, green forest surrounded the large campsite that stretched for over a mile. Jilahd knew that word was spreading of his arrival and he was glad to think that that news would reach his enemy. No glory when the foe is sleeping when you arrive.
He quietly walked to the remnants of the fortress of Sucaeva, drinking horn in hand adorned with embossed horses in silver with it's mouth and tip of the horn plated in gold. As he neared the old gatehouse, now reduced to a pile of rubble and nearly lost to vines and high grass, he raised his horn.
"This is to honor those dwarven heroes that gave their lives against the eastern invaders. I, Jilahd salute you." Once proclaimed, he poured out a long stream of beer onto the grass, then drank the rest. Being nightfall, the golden hues from the many campfires cast an eerie shadow within the bushes and trees around him.
Crunching in the grass announced a visitor and he turned to notice Gerlach approach.
"Father," his son nodded, then glanced beyond him to the quiet ruin. "I dispatched your letter to King Prasutagus of Lamar. Hope they get to join us before it's too late."
Jilahd chuckled, his bass tone echoing through the surrounding forest. "They'd run day and night to fight at our side. The gods help anyone in their way."
Thick, brown beard arced in a smile. "I wish I could've been with you and seen these places as well. I remember hearing those stories by the hearth and wondering how my own test would be. Being a part of something large and epic like that, it's a warrior's dream. Most never will get to see Dirge itself, yet you were there."
"You'll have your own stories to tell your grandchildren. Pass on to our descendents for generations to come. Don't fear for lack of stories. You've still seen places I've never been." He finished the horn's contents and lowered the gift from his grandfather as tiny courses of ale dribbled down his beard.
"Herger should've been king instead of me." A name that sobered Jilahd's enthusiasm quickly.
He returned the horn to his belt, then rested both hands on his son's broad shoulders. "Aesir wished Herger at a younger age for something great. His stories will ring through the halls when we get there, so that we'll know his voice. And they'll declare that the kings and princes of Varangia have returned." He hugged his son tightly. "You'll do this family proud. I know it, otherwise you wouldn't have been given the throne." Jilahd backed, then smiled.
"I look forward to seeing him again."
Jilahd laughed. "But not yet. We still have some work to do here, first." Green eyes looked beyond the king of De Haan to their campfire. "Haakon! My drinking horn is empty!"
* * *
A light rain fell the next morning as Jilahd sat upon the stool near his remains of their campfire and stoked the embers with a long stick. His men sleeping around him and down the long slope, he was amazed at the sight and proud at the same time.
"Good morning, Sire," Haakon greeted from behind and to his left as the captain emerged from his own tent. "Supplies should be arriving today from Fletcher's Point. We may not be able to gain enough game from the land to sustain us. Are there any towns within the Black Mountains to plunder?"
Jilahd smiled and glanced up to the captain. "No. We'll be fine, don't worry."
Nodding quietly, Haakon claimed a stool nearby. "A lot of men to feed everyday, Sire. This mission not being welcomed by the king of Davos, I can't imagine him sending supplies to us while we march."
"I know. Ration what we do have and allow the men to hunt in parties while we move then. Fresh water is more important, so keep their eyes open for that as well."
"Of course." He glanced up the hill and to the ruins. "How long is this tunnel through the mountains?"
"A few days." As men started waking up, he heard movement towards them and glanced to the right to notice several guards escorting two humans in rigid leather and no heraldry. One of the guards grabbed the shoulders of both riders and stopped them at the edge of the ring of tents.
"Sire, these men have a message from Davos."
Jilahd straightened, "What news?"
"King George wishes you good fortunes and would know the nature of your visit, Sire."
"Liberating a town within the Black Mountains that he's neglected." A comment that caught both men offguard.
"The king's lands don't extend beyond the duchy of Carbost, Sire."
His demeanor unchanged, he nodded. "I know."
"Which town, if I may?"
Jilahd deflected the inquiry. "Just send my best to King George and his family and when this is done, I will visit him in Davos, if he wishes. Good day." He motioned for the guards to escort both men from him, a command that they promptly fulfilled.
"My lord," Haakon soon interrupted his train of thought. "Should we prepare a strong rearguard while we march?"
"George hasn't the stomach for war, though his counts do. They've suffered enough from the invasion last year, I wouldn't think he'd want to come at us with what men he has left. Humans don't look at a glorious death the way we do."
Nodding, he knew his captain would agree as would everyone in this immense camp. "Will we wait for news from Lamar before we march?"
Jilahd sighed and glanced back to the brave warrior. "Good question. I can wait a couple days, but no more."
Haakon nodded as he rose, "I'll pass the word to the nobles and let them know, then start breakfast."