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."