Bothvar Beorcolsson
I have no idea how my father convinced my mother to let my younger siblings and Thora train, although Svala isn’t all that young. She’s a summer or two away from being old enough to raid herself. Bodvar isn’t that far behind. Thora still has a way to go, only being still my age when Arngunn’s parents died, but she’s able to hold a sword, so she must train.
The cave is growing crowded. The old men have brought their children to train as well. Aldam had sent for several more anvils and tools. The sound of hammers on metal echoes through the mountains. The men and several women, including the daughters of Einar, Throst, and Koll all look to me to lead them. Even my father has joined in and follows my lead. Part of me thinks they are all fools. What right do I have to lead? Wherever I go, death follows like a shadow I can’t outrun.
I must say, however, we’ve made much progress since the first day we started down this path after the battle with the giants. Those who came first, Solmund, Griotgard, Skardi, Einar, Koll, and Throst are well on their way to making weapons, helms, and breastplates. It seems Aldam’s way of training is far more effective than the method I used.
My siblings are not far behind. Especially Thormar, which surprises me. I never thought of him as a warrior, but he is proving me wrong. Bodvar is unsurprisingly progressing just as fast. He’s already on the bracelets, as well as Svala. Even Thora is showing strength beyond her cycles. She complains a lot, she’s combative, stubborn, fool-hardy, and foul-mouth. Just like her father and mother in many ways. She complains just as much as Asfrid did and is just as fool-hardy and stubborn as Thorkel. I don’t know where she learns the words that come out of her mouth, but when I do find out, I might just cut out their tongue.
I spar with the child as she wears the bracelets, slowing her movements. “This is so not fair! These bracelets are heavy. I could hit you if I didn’t wear them.”
“The bracelets give you strength. The harder the struggle, the stronger you get.”
She just growls as she tries her best to attack. I swat her strikes away and cover her body with bruises. “Too slow. You’ll have to do better than that if you hope to take up the sword and join us on raids.”
She grits her teeth and glares at me. She digs her practice sword into the ground and tries to fling rocks at me. I laugh as I beat them away while dodging her strikes. “You try to use that trick on me again, huh? You’ll have to do better.”
She lunges and feigns the overhead before going to a cross strike. I jump back and sweep her legs out as she tumbles down. She rolls to her side and slams her fist against the ground. She gets up and breaks the wooden practice sword on her knee, chucking it.
“Thora! You can’t keep letting your anger fluster you. Anger blinds you in battle and that leads to mistakes. It makes you careless. Now go fetch another stick and make yourself another practice sword. Stop breaking them so needlessly,” I say in a chastising tone. She huffs, practically growling at me before she turns heel and walks away muttering insults.
She’s grown wild and restless. That little girl who sat by my side at the dock not that long ago seems to have been lost. This girl who has taken her place is full of anger. I can understand that fury. Her anger isn’t without merit. She is mad at the world for the injustice of growing up without her parents. The only way to quell it is to burn it out of her through hard work and discipline.
I oversee the progress of the others. Vog Einarson and his sister Thorgunna are working with the pebble along with Throst’s daughters, Asvor, Alfdis, and one named Arngunn… a name that brings me much pain, along with Asdis and Alfeidi. Most of them seem to complain, particularly Arngunn. She is nothing like my Arni. It’s hard to even speak the name out loud.
Koll’s many sons and daughters and his grandsons and several granddaughters are also here training. Veleif, who was older than Thorkel has moved on to the bracelets while his second wife, Thorballa Cnutdottir, along with all four of his daughters Aldis, Estrid, Asvor, and Bolla work on the pebbles. My other cousins vary in progress as well. Frida has moved onto the bracelets while all of her younger sisters Greiland, Asfrid, Asgerd, and Yngvild all still try to lift the pebble. Their other brothers Svafar, Saxi, Gili, and Tyrkir all on the bracelets. Starolf Saxison, Gudrik Svafarson, and Hunbogi Veleifson also are still on the pebble. Some of the Kollsons’ wives also work hard to gain strength. Hallgerd Sigviddottir, Svafar’s first wife who is also Solmund and Griotgard’s older sister along with Tofa Odinkardottir, Svafar’s second wife, along with Arnjborg, Saxi’s first wife, and even my aunt, Ingithora, Koll’s second wife, work hard to gain strength. Ingithora already wears the bracelets, while the other two women are still with the pebble.
Koll is a lucky man to have such a large family. A family so large, he mans an entire ship with them, securing much wealth for his family. Father has always wished to do the same with our family.
Most of Father’s and Thorkel’s crew members are here as well. Particularly Grimwald’s line, his son, Gudleif, Gudlief’s wife Audbjorg, and their surviving daughter Turid, as well as Grimwald’s youngest son, Harvard, who is Thormar’s friend. Fridmund Bjarkisson along with Gizor, his sisters Greiland and Katla, aside from their other sister Arnora, Koll’s third wife. Iarl Gerison and Rognvald Holmgavtsson are here as well.
Solmund and Griotgard’s younger siblings, Hosvir Sigvidson and Vigdis Sigviddottir, are here along with Ulf Styrkarsson, and his sister Ingirid. Brynhild Svartkollrdottir and her son Thorvir Stormborn work hard and Thorvir seems to progress rather quickly.
I wish I had Aldam’s help when I came here. It would’ve made my progress much faster. The dwarf’s wisdom is much helpful. Without him, we’d be a jumbled mess.
Lastly, Gunnstein Cnutsson, his wife Joreid, and his two siblings Skarf and Thialfi make up the last of what is made up of Thorkel’s crew, which father intends for me to lead. I am still on the fence.
My father can only come up for part of the day before heading back to take care of affairs in town.
The mushrooms seem to have an effect on them. The ones who came first are starting to see the darkening effect on their skin and talk about their heightened senses. Some of the women are reluctant to eat them because of the effect they have on the skin. Some don’t want that color. But the price is worth it. The mushroom makes your body as fresh as an apple still on the tree nearly in the time it takes for a short nap. Their healing effect will give us a great advantage if war ever comes.
Our numbers have grown such that we had to find more caves. I’m reluctant to let anyone near Longhorn’s resting place. It is sacred to me and I will see it untouched. I’ve visited it several times to make sure it remains untouched. Especially with those foul shadow stalkers. I’ve heard their howling at night. It unsettled many of the men and women with training. I have half a mind to take out a hunting party and exterminate them all.
When I’m not training my siblings, overseeing everyone else’s training, I am hammering out tools, weapons, and armor with the green ore, nedratum, or whatever the dwarf calls it. We have the men and women make bracelets and pebbles for those behind them before they go on to make their own weapons and armors.
As night falls upon us, the howling of those damn shadow stalkers echoes through the mountain paths like a nefarious wind.
“What in the gods is that disturbing nose?” Fridmund asks, plugging his ears.
“You don’t want to know,” I say, casting weary glances out at the darkness. Under the moonlight, I can see their kind lurking through the darkness. Just out of range.
“Are those the shadow monsters we’ve heard about?” Thormar asks.
“They’re fiends, vicious and cunning. They’re relentless. When I first came here, they nearly killed me,” I say. That makes them all uneasy.
“I say we hunt them down. It’ll be a good test of our strength,” Svafar says, stroking his short black beard.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind having a nice challenge,” Starolf says, stretching his arm.
Saxi punches his arm. “Don’t be so hasty. You can’t even lift a pebble yet, son.”
“Be careful what you wish for. The shadow stalkers would love to sink their rotting teeth in your flesh. Although we might not have a choice. They’ve been circling our caves, stalking us for several nights now. They’re waiting for an excellent opportunity to strike. Probably hoping they can get us alone and weaken our numbers. The beasts are smarter than they look. If we do go out and hunt them, we will wait until daylight when they are weaker,” I say.
“We can take ’em,” Vog says, puffing his oversized chest out. “They’re no match for us. Same with them yeti I heard are up here. They might be big, but I can take ’em.”
“You’ll do no such thing if you find a yeti!” I snap at him.
“Why? Do you think I can’t kill one? Think I’m weak?” he asks, standing up.
“I wouldn’t mind having a yeti horn to mount on my wall,” Gizor says, stroking his long red beard.
“Anyone who tries to attack a yeti will have to answer to me. They are not to be harmed,” I say, as my ax slices a rock in two. The crack of the force makes many flinch.
“Why? They’re just beasts,” Vog says.
“If it weren’t for those beasts, the Shadow stalkers would’ve killed me. The yeti saved my life. No one will touch them.” My voice booms through the mountain pass, scattering the shadow stalkers. Vog sighs and throws his hands up.
A loud howl whips through our camp. It’s too close for comfort. They return beyond the campsite, circling. “Everyone, arm yourselves. Looks like you’ll have the fight you’re looking for. They’re closing in.”
“Aldam, Koll, Einar, Throst, Thormar, Griotgard, Solmund, Skardi, Veleif and Vog, with me. The rest of you get into the caves. The stronger of you guard the entrance, the rest fall behind for support. We’ll hold them off until dawn and then hunt them down,” I command.
“What about me?” Svafar says.
“Do as you’re told, boy,” Koll snaps at him. He reluctantly listens and heads into the cave with the rest.
I see them circling us. Their glowing red eyes seem to pierce the darkness. With an ax in one hand and the sword in the other, I stomp on the ground. “Come and get it, you foul creatures!”
The damn thing meets my challenge and darts at me with an unsettling, ravenous charge. Its claws rip through the air, seeking my flesh, barely missing as I step aside. The wretched stench of the beast makes it hard to breathe. It has the smell of rotting flesh and putrid death. My ax slices the fiend’s head clean off as its black blood sprays out. The blood is not right.
“What in the name of the gods is that thing?” Griotgard says.
More rush out of the darkness, seeking their meal. “Circle up!”
They gather around the entrance in an arc while the beasts dance just outside the light of the campfires. An arrow swipes past me straight into the eye of one of the beasts. I look back to see Svala notching another and others grab bows, following her lead.
A screeching howl pierces our ears as they storm us. At least six charges in. I take on the first, slicing off a long, clawed hand that sought my chest. Aldam’s hammer caves in the head of one that sought to make him his meal. Koll fends off another, covering himself in the black blood as he opens its chest with a swipe of his sword. Solmund screams out as a long claw opens his forearm. Griotgard manages to chop its arm off. Einar and Vog dispatch another, dismembering its arms before decapitating it. Solmund decapitates the one who cut him. Vog buries his ax in the chest of another. Skardi ducks under a swipe before slicing open its guts.
Throst and Thormar trade strikes, chopping down another fiend hungry for our flesh. Arrows continue to fly past us, seeking their rotting, discolored flesh covered in matted, sickly hair. Their howls make my ears hurt.
The dwarf’s blows seem to shake the entire mountain. In between another blast of his hammer, I hear the subtle clatter of rocks behind and turn around in time as a shadow leaps from above our cave entrance, only to impale itself upon my sword. I hurl it at the others charging in.
It seems like for every one we kill, two more take its place. The battle rages on through the night as the corpses of these shadow fiends start to pile up around us. Food in the mountains must be truly scarce for them to throw themselves at us like this.
Finally, they retreat as the sun breaks the horizon. They do not like the light. The men at my side are tired and wounded. Not one of them save for me and Aldam made it out of the fight without a cut, but none suffered any severe wounds. Solmund and Einar suffered a deep cut, but nothing the mushrooms can’t heal. “All of you, get inside, eat the mushrooms and drink the water. Then clean out your wounds thoroughly or you’ll suffer the taint of those beasts.”
“The rest of you, help me burn their corpses and clean their stench from our land.” No one argues as the wounded stumble in, helped by their kin. Those who aren’t helping the wounded come out to aid me in piling the corpses of the shadow stalkers into a pile.
“Wait!” Vog yells as he stumbles out with a nasty gash across his chest. “I want a trophy.”
I sigh, rolling my eyes. “Be quick then. I want these corpses burned.”
He takes out his ax and chops off the head of one.
“I want one too,” Gili says.
“You didn’t even kill one,” Svafar says, punching him in the shoulder.
“I did too. I shot one with my bow,” he says.
“If you want trophies, make it quick. I want this foul stench burned out!” I snap at them.
—
It took a full day for the men who fought by my side to recover. While they rested, the others continued their training. I scouted the land and found the den of those fiends during the day. Once the others recover, we hunt them down and kill them all during the day. They hide in their cave and we bring sacks of bear lard, light them on fire, and toss them into the cave. The beasts howl in pain as several erupt when they come into contact with the trickle of water. We set the entire cave ablaze with our flaming sacks of bear lard. When the flaming lard sacks come into contact with the shallow water in the cave, it looks like a dragon breathed fire upon the shadow stalkers.
Their howling echoes out and some of them even run out into the open air. We slay them as they try to escape the fire. However, it seems the sunlight burns their skin.
As the fires die down, I rush in with the others following and kill any left alive. Koll steps up and puts his hand on my shoulder. “Bothvar, you truly are the most cunning warrior. I have the privilege of fighting alongside. Who would’ve thought using burning bear lard would create such devastating eruptions?”
“I would like to add slingshots to our ships so they can fire them at our enemies,” I say.
“That is a truly great idea. The elves won’t know what hit them when we hurl flaming sacks of bear fat at them,” Throst says.
“The best thing about it is when they go to put them out with water, they’ll erupt in their face,” I say with a smile.
“I don’t get it. Why do they erupt like that?” Griotgard asks.
“The water, for some reason, whenever the burning bear grease comes into contact with water, it has that effect,” I say with a shrug. “Although I believe if you drop one into a lake of water or the sea, it’ll smother the flame, but if we can land them on their ships and they try to put them out with water, it’ll only make them erupt with a larger flame.”
“Well, we’ll have to visit the Builders once we get back. I want this on my ship. I suppose we’ll have to hunt quite a few bears to get us a good supply of the lard,” Koll says.
“We just have to be careful not to kill them all off or we’ll be out the lard for good,” I say.
“Good point,” Throst says.
“Just so you know, since you can’t put the grease fire out with water, you’ll have to smother it with a rock or sand. I learned this the hard way.” My smile doesn’t quite reach my eyes. I run my hands through my beard cautiously.
“We’ll keep that in mind,” Koll says.
We head back to the caves and get to work. The rest of spring goes by as their strength grows. By the time spring ends, most have made their own weapons with the metal and some have crafted armor as well.
As night takes over, I see Bodvar sneaking up on Thormar with one of the skulls of the shadow stalkers. He howls as he gets behind Thormar, causing him to jump, which also causes Svala to nearly fall over laughing. Even Thora snickers. However, this backfires as Thormar cold-cocks Bodvar in the face, sending him on his arse. I only shake my head with a sigh.
—
On one of my many trips back to town, I head over to speak with the boatbuilder, Osvald, and his crazy lover, Gyda. This time her hair is pink and I find that very strange. It’s a different color every time I see her. Osvald isn’t exactly what I would call normal either. The man spends more time with his wood than with other people. He spends a lot of time with the trees. Aldam calls the elves tree huggers. Osvald is king tree-hugger. He speaks of trees as if they’re alive. Constantly pressing his ear up to them as if to hear their heartbeats.
His partner, Gyda, is even crazier. While he loves to build, she loves to destroy. It was her idea to put mounted ballistae on our ships and she created the different bolts to use with them, including the hammer bolt to punch through ships’ hulls.
“How goes it, Osvald and Gyda?” I ask as I walk to them.
“Oh, we’re doing fine, Bothvar. How are you, my friend?” Osvald asks, pulling on his long, braided mustache. He and Gyda are much older than they look. Older than my father, but they don’t look any older than me.
“Good. I’ve come to ask you about an idea I have,” I say as the builder peers down a long wood plank propped up on two wooden pairs of legs that makes it look as if it were a horse. Gyda sits by herself at a table looking at different powders.
“Share away,” he says, not taking his attention from the wooden plank.
“Well, I would like to create a sort of sling that we can attach to our ships that can launch flaming sacks of lard,” I say, trying to explain it with my hands the way a yeti would. It is hard to stop talking that way once you start.
Gyda perks up. “Did someone say launch flaming sacks of lard? That sounds like fun!”
Osvald finally stands up from crouching in front of the plank and paces, as he twirls one finger around one of the braids hanging from his mustache. “That could work quite well if you figure out how to fire the sling without getting burnt. I suppose if you attach some kind stopper on the sling with a lever, it’d take care of that problem, then you’d still have to figure out how to prevent the sling itself from catching fire or melting.”
“Why not just use a metal plate at the center of the sling to hold the hot sack?” Gyda asks.
“Yes, that would work.” Osvald nods his head and looks up at me. “We will make these slings for your new ships.”
“I also have concerns about our ship’s weight capacity. We have a new metal for our armor and weapons that is much heavier than that of iron or steel,” I say as I take out my sword and stab it into the ground.
Osvald inspects the weapon and tries to lift it. Osvald smiles and rubs his hands together. “Yes, that might prove to be a major concern. I’ll have to think about this. You’ve presented me with quite a challenge, Bothvar. It’s been a while since I had a good challenge. I thank you.”
I smile because I can understand his excitement. I’ve come to see why people enjoy challenges. I nod. “Thank you, Osvald, and thank you, Gyda. If there is anything you need, let me know.”
“Of course, I will think long and hard about how to solve the weight problem and I will achieve it. I will probably need to have more of these weapons and armor to experiment with and test my ships,” he says.
“And you will have it.”
—
Here I find myself again, sitting on the dock, staring out at the endless sea. Wishing I could see them all one last time. The sun’s beauty will forever be dimmed by what the world lost to the stars and I’m left here alone while my wife and child feast with my brother and his wife and son. It’s hard to still believe in the gods when they took from me what mattered most. I’m done screaming at the gods who only seem to take from me. How do I find the will to fight on when the people I was fighting for are no longer here?
The best of me died with the love of my life and our son, leaving the rest of me here in broken pieces. Only a promise keeps me going on. “Brother, I will make sure Thora lives to carry on your legacy. I promise you that.”
I just wish I could let go and see my beloved Arngunn and our child in the halls of the afterlife. I would trade all the honor, glory, and riches in the world to spend one more day with them in my arms. “Arni, why did you leave me?”
What kind of question is that? It was I who left her. Left her and our child to face the long night alone. I am not worthy of her love. I don’t think I ever was. She deserved better. A man who won’t let revenge take him away from those who need him.
Suddenly, someone rushes down the dock and jumps into the water. A moment later, Thora’s head pops up onto the surface. “Uncle Bothvi. The water feels good. Come in!”
“You crazy child, you nearly made my heart leap out of my chest!” I snap at her. But then it really does leap out of my chest when something else surfaces. A black shark-like fin pokes out of the water and darts towards Thora. “Thora! Get out of the water!”
I leap in after her, but I’m not fast enough as the monster reaches her. But to my astonishment, she’s lifted out of the water and onto its back. She laughs and giggles as the thing swims circles around me with her on it. I look under the water and see that it is a killer whale and my heart practically stills in my chest. There are several more coming.
“Thora, we have to get out of the water. That is a killer whale. They are dangerous!” I yell.
“Oh, don’t worry uncle Bothvi, this is my friend Meara and her kin. She just wants to play. Oh, what’s that, Meara?” Thora puts her ear down against the whale. “You have something of ours?”
The whale swims over to the docks, and I try to swim as fast as I can over there, too. Thora climbs onto the dock and before I realize it, she’s reaching down into the beast’s maw between its razor-sharp. “Thora, what are you doing!”
My breath catches in my throat, but I let it out as she pulls something out of the whale’s mouth. I climb onto the dock as the other whales swim around the docks, leaping out of the water and doing strange things. One even pops up and sprays me with water out of its mouth. Another slaps its fin against the water. “What in the name of the gods is going on?”
“They’re just having fun, uncle Bothvi. Don’t you hear them talking?” she asks, holding something in her hands.
“You hear them talking?” I ask.
“Don’t you?” she says, nodding. I shake my head.
“What is that in your hand?” I ask.
“Some strange pendant. They said you dropped it,” she says, holding it out to me.
I let out a gasp as I take it from her. It was the pendant I was going to give Arni. I chucked it into the water several cycles ago. They’ve been holding onto it all this time? Why did I throw it away? I regretted that. “Tell them… Tell them I thank them.”
She jumps back into the water and gets back onto the whale, who had the pendant. “They said you’re welcome.”
She then rides it around the harbor, hooting and howling in laughter. She truly is the Daughter of the Sea. I’m going to start calling her little fish.
—
I take several of those who have advanced through the training to go on a hunt. My father, Koll, Einar, Thormar, Throst, Vog, Veleif, Solmund, Skardi, Griotgard, Svala, Bodvar, and even Thora. We head down the mountain and stalk through the forest, following the tracks of a bear. We make the young ones trail back while I lead the party on, following it as it gets near the road. When we catch the bear, I head it off while the others circle it. This is a tusk nose bear with tusks longer than most boars. It doesn’t hesitate to charge. I dash aside from its spearhead charge. I slice its throat, giving it a clean and painless death.
“Ahhh… You could’ve saved us some action,” Vog says with a sigh.
“You’re more than welcome to skin it,” I say with a smile.
“We’ll have the younglings do it. Svala, Thora, and Bodvar. Come,” my father shouts.
The three of them rush up to meet us. “Now is your chance to learn. Let Thormar show you how to salvage the bear and skin it.”
In the distance, heavy footsteps sound off. Many of them. I’m not the only one who hears them, as most of the party looks in the direction they come from.
“It appears the road has travelers,” my father says. “Let us see who it is.”
I nod and lead the way, keeping as quiet as possible while trying to get the others to do the same. We keep low as we get as close as possible to the road. We don’t need to get too close to see who it is. It’s a party of the Southerners. Several elves with blue eyes lead them on horses with bright shiny armor. Behind them is a company of soldiers. They’re marching south.
“Shall we attack?” Einar asks, dragging his weapon out.
“No… Let them be,” I say.
But before anyone can reply, shouts are heard as people from the other side of the road charge out of the forest. At first, I thought it was the Wolves, but to my dismay, it was another clan. Men wearing the skin of others, along with heads of wolves, boars, horses, goats, and all sorts of animals, attack the men. My anger surges at seeing the clan responsible for killing Tonna and the other Valkyrie. They attack the men marching south and they have more in numbers. Killing off several. But to my surprise, the elves use this white magic. One in particular cuts a path against the Bone Eaters. Using light as a shield. Despite that, they are vastly outnumbered. They will not win this fight. And no one deserves to be meat for the Bone Eaters. I charge out and attack, howling a storm at the Bone Eaters. I cut through them without remorse. My blade cuts a savage wearing a bear’s head in half as I watch his intestines flop out. My ax slices through the sword of another and rips open his chest. I can see his beating heart cut in half.
The rest of the Krakens follow me into battle, hacking down the Bone Eaters. I stab through one of them, about to attack the back of the elven wizard warrior. His eyes meet mine and he hesitates. I sling the body down and attack another who was about to slash at him. He makes a decision and attacks a Bone Eater rushing me. For once, we fight side by side with the Southerners and the Elves. But I get carried away and lost in my blood lust as I chase the Bone Eater’s down and kill as many as I can. I hate them all.
When I come back, one of the elven magic wizard warriors is dead while another wizard warrior mourns for him. A human one. He looks up at us. “I don’t know who you are, but thank you for your help. Those monsters would’ve had us.”
“I hate the Bone Eaters. They are worse than any of you Southerners. They are not among us and we kill them on sight. Not even you and your people deserve to be their meal. Cannibals they are, and that is not our way.”
The man stands up and steps toward me, but holds out his hand. “Maybe we’re not that different. My name is Alexandros and I’m with the Paladin order of the Light.”
“Bothvar,” I say, shaking his hand. “And this is my father, Beorcol, Earl of the Kraken clan.”
My father steps up and also shakes his hand. “Normally we’d be the ones fighting you, but you’re lucky my son decided not to, but unfortunately, the Bone Eaters had other plans. But my son is right, we do not associate with such savages. For now, we’ll leave you and your people in peace. But do not mistake us as allies. We will never bow down to your tyrant king.”
The man nods. “Fair enough. Even so, we thank you for your aid, Northerners. We’re in your debt. Perhaps maybe one day we could set aside our differences and become allies instead of enemies.”
“Perhaps. There are greater threats than your people and not just the Bone Eaters. Giants come from the north to raid and attack us. Jotnar, we call them. They nearly destroyed our village, and they were just a raiding party. You should check your shores, for soon they will be upon them,” father says.
“Thank you for the warning. I won’t take it lightly,” Alexandros says, nodding.
“We will be off then,” father says as he turns to the men. “Let’s go.”
On our way out, I overhear the man talking to his men about the dead elf. “Orym fought bravely. He sacrificed himself and saved my own life. And those Krakens… It might be possible to break peace with them. Write up a report and send it to Commander Astacos detailing this situation.”
“You fought well, my son. But maybe next time we hold our blades,” my father says.
“I will never keep my sword sheathed when Bone Eater’s walk upon our land. No one deserves to become their meal. I hate them.”
“As do I, but we cannot risk our own men in a fight that is not ours,” he says.
“No one died of ours, right?” I ask.
“No, but still. It wasn’t our fight,” he says.
“But we may have just started a potential alliance,” I say.
“There will never be an alliance with the Southerners. Not with King Vandil on the throne,” he says with a growl.
“I wasn’t talking about King Vandil or the Southerners. Did you not see? They are separate clans of people. These… Soldiers of the Light. They do not follow kings. They are their own nation I believe. The slaves we have that followed their order told me.”
He scratches his beard. “Still, these children of the Light sound like some followers of some religion. They’ll most likely want to force us to convert to their Light. I will not have it,” he says, ending the conversation.
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