We climbed the mountain, and ahead, a view of a long winding gorge opened up, where at the end stood a palisade with a fluttering banner.
"This is the coat of arms of the tan of the southern lands. But you'll only see it on the guardsmen; regular warriors don't wear it. Above the guardsmen are the Huskarls, or the tan's bodyguards. Just like Asura became Katrina's personal knight-protector, tans appoint their best warriors as huskarls. Rarely does a tan take more than five bodyguards, as having more would make other tans think he can't protect himself. Huskarls receive a significant salary and they have their armor and weapons custom-made according to their personal preferences. And, of course, the next level is the Tans. There are twenty tans in total who make up the tan council. It is this council that makes all the important decisions affecting the country's life. Tans are the feudal lords of the lands of Nordrune and the strongest warriors of the clans. Usually, the ancient clans of warriors rule the lands, and the strongest among them becomes the tan. All tans swear allegiance to the Great Jarl, but in reality, they, as warriors, rarely fight. So, towards the end of their lives, some of them turn into bloated nobles, drowning in excess."
"Yeah, that sounds familiar," I pictured our nobles trying to fight Nordic warriors. It would be a sad sight.
"It's an exception for the eldest tan, the feudal lord of the central province, where Nartandar is located. He also becomes the main advisor to the Great Jarl. In the central lands, there are many ancient warrior clans, so there is no clear inheritance of this title. The king or the High Jarl himself chooses who will be his right hand, and he becomes the eldest tan. Above the tans stands only the High Jarl. However, even his power is limited. He cannot change the laws written according to ancient traditions or declare war on other countries without the consent of the tan council. In practice, the council of twenty tans and the High Jarl make all the laws in the country."
"Hmm, quite democratic."
"But on the other hand, it's wild," Katrina frowned displeased. "You give the power to decide the fate of people to overfed rich men with magic just because their ancestors performed some feats thousands of years ago. That's so much better. There won't be any bribe-takers, embezzlers, murderers, rapists, and all that scum among them."
"Kkh," Katrina was frustrated, biting her lip.
"Maybe the nobles of Verania consider us savages, settling everything with force, BUT we live by the laws of honor. Every warrior is taught from childhood to respect others. Yes, power changes many, but ordinary warriors try to protect the people. Even if you're a guardsman, there's nothing shameful in helping a girl bothered by a couple of guards. And being a huskarl doesn't mean you won't help an old man whose home is being taken away for debts. There's nothing shameful in that."
"But then, the tans practically have unlimited power! What if one of them is a bloodthirsty killer!?" Katrina tried to object to Hilda, going over the last arguments.
There are two ways to deal with such a situation. The first is to exclude him through a decision of the tan council, but for that, more than fifteen tans must be in favor," Hilda turned to the Veranian princess with a serious look and continued, "and the second way is to resolve it with force! The High Jarl doesn't wear the crown just for show; he must earn it by proving his strength. If one of the tans becomes too arrogant, the Jarl can challenge him to a duel, and if victorious, strip him of everything, including his title over the warrior lands! This happened twenty years ago with the tan from the Bear Claw clan, whom you've already met. However, he fought unfairly in the battle, using dirty tricks, and eventually forced my mother to intervene. The duel was declared invalid, and Krig could keep his title, but he spat on the ground and declared that he didn't want to serve such a king. He renounced his title and went into the icy wastelands, taking all his warriors and the most despicable mercenaries from all over the continent with him. That's how he formed a clan of free mercenaries, not subject to anyone's authority, mostly consisting of the worst scoundrels in the whole continent. Strangely, he immediately became the largest clan of mercenaries on the continent."
"Yeah, and what if they decide to overthrow the High Jarl, if the tans unite against him? Or if the High Jarl himself starts exterminating his subjects, who will stop him then?"
"For such cases, there is his personal guard, the Valkyries. They recruit the strongest women from all over the country, and they obey only the strongest woman in the country. They can fend off any attack on the palace; that's why they train every day and wear the best armor in the country. And if the king is leading the country to ruin, they can, in the worst case, kill him. But after that, the head of the Valkyries most often ends her own life because it's usually the queen."
"Hmm, and now the head Valkyrie... could that be the reason why Hilda is so afraid of her mother?"
"Yes, that's my mother, and they are preparing me too so that in the future, I can become the head Valkyrie."
"And you fear going home not because of your father, of course?"
Dark clouds loomed over the princess's head.
"Yeah... The Valkyries also ensure that traditions and laws are upheld... And I lost to a stranger... became his servant... in short... haaah," she sighed with every phrase. Her mother must be terrifying when angry. "Anyway, Krito, don't take it personally if my mother wants to kill you."
"WHAT?! Why would she want to kill me?"
"Well, because you defeated the strongest female warrior in the clan and didn't even marry her. According to our customs, it's considered the deepest insult."
"Hey, hey, hey! I didn't fight you for marriage, we were in a tournament, and you were fighting me too for marriage!"
"Well, that's true, but try explaining that to my mother," the princess chuckled maliciously, and finally, we reached the border.
"Who and for what purpose wants to cross the border?" Two guards stood in front of the entrance, not just large, but huge, each of them having a hand the size of Algo. They probably deliberately choose the strongest kids from all over the country to guard the border, as I hope not all Nords are of the same size.
"Hilda Degarun with friends has returned to her home, and she wasn't recognized!" Hilda pouted her lips and crossed her arms.
"Princess?" One of the guards adjusted his helmet to get a better look at the girl. It seemed he had it pulled down too low over his eyes to appear more intimidating, and that's why he didn't recognize the princess. Both guards pounded their fists against their chests and bowed to the girl. "We apologize for the rudeness. Not long ago, a large group of bandits passed through the eastern gates, so we were ordered to be on guard."
"Hmm," I know who those bandits were.
"Your father sent for you himself, so you should be aware."
"Yes, all the posts were warned," the guard smiled awkwardly. "I just didn't expect such luck to fall on my shift... cough... Forgive me, you did the right thing by choosing this path; the east is dangerous now, for the same reasons."
For a moment, the stern voice of the guard turned into that of an enamored schoolboy, but he quickly regained composure.
"Yes, it's the Bear Claws causing trouble again. We recently gave them a good thrashing, so they returned home with bruised egos. But I doubt my father summoned me because of that. By the way, do you know the reason?"
At the girl's question, the guards exchanged glances and shook their heads.
"We've only heard rumors that several villages in the north were destroyed, but no details. The Valkyries made sure that soldiers didn't talk about the attackers."
"That's not good," Hilda thoughtfully scratched her chin. "Then please prepare warm clothes for my friends and transportation to the capital."
"Huh? What about your horses? Did you really walk all the way from the Academy?"
"Don't worry about that; we cut a little distance. Where can we stay here?"
"The house of the voivode always has a couple of vacant rooms for important guests. Everything will be ready by tomorrow morning."
We passed through the gates and found ourselves in a bustling village with about forty households at most. Beyond the village, another slope was visible, covered with a thick layer of snow crust. The houses in the village looked peculiar. They had a layer of soil over the sloping walls and roof, where a thin layer of grass sprouted. I had heard that they insulated their homes in such a way in the harsh northern conditions.
"The largest house must belong to the voivode; I think we'll receive a decent reception there."
"Hmm, why did that guard become so flustered when he recognized you?" Katrina had another question bothering her.
"Oh, that... well, usually by this age or in the next couple of years, girls from noble houses announce their desire to get married. Then all eligible suitors have the right to participate in a tournament for the girl's hand. Of course, the house guards must check how worthy the suitor is of the girl's hand."
"Lineage and all that?" Liri looked at the princess with interest.
"Yes, as if it matters. We value only strength and honor. The guards assess the strength of the young man and whether he is loyal to his tan and the High Jarl. If this is not done, someone like Krig Bear Claw can burst in and kill all the competitors, taking yet another wife for himself."
"That would be unpleasant."
"Well, it's true to some extent. However, such tournaments usually apply only to warrior girls from the tans' and Jarl's families. Because in the end, the bride herself must fight the groom and ascertain his strength. Even if the girl wins, she can accept the young man's proposal if she finds him worthy. But there have been cases where girls fell in love with one of the suitors before the tournament ended and secretly helped him by spiking the drinks of the strongest rivals with weakening potions. Still, such cases are rare."
"Yeah, if you think about it, the strongest warrior must look like that guard at the gate, and he might even have scars all over his face, a huge beard, and a corresponding odor," Liri's imagination painted a rather unpleasant picture.
"Regrettably, you're not far from the truth. However, there is an age restriction for such events, and warriors over thirty cannot compete for the hand of a young maiden."
"That's sad."
"That doesn't mean they have no chance. Hosting a tournament is not mandatory; if the young couple's relatives agree to the marriage and they themselves don't object, there is no need for it. Lately, such tournaments have become quite rare, but my mother insists on maintaining traditions and wants me to gather warriors for this mad event in the next couple of years," the girl sighed sadly. "But I'm not really eager to organize this tournament right now."
We had just reached the main house, and Hilda smirked confidently.
"Now, I'll show you how they welcome real warriors!"
Without hesitation, the girl kicked open the heavy double doors and boldly entered the house. Before us was a spacious hall filled with about thirty fierce warriors who had previously been peacefully drinking ale and chatting amicably. The displeased glances from the warriors didn't seem to faze her, although her armor clearly indicated she wasn't just an ordinary wandering warrior.
"So, who's in charge here?" The girl didn't seem to care about the warriors' discontent, and it could be seen from her armor that she wasn't just a regular wandering warrior.
Finally, the largest of the warriors rose from the table. He could easily rival the doorframe's width but, at the moment, was more focused on arm wrestling with someone while casually sipping ale with his other hand. Since none of the warriors wore distinctive marks, one could assume that he was the settlement's chieftain.
"We were having a cultured conversation here, you see, and you burst in, knocking the door down and daring to call for the chief!" Judging by his incoherent and not particularly eloquent speech, the burly man wasn't burdened with deep thoughts.
Approaching us, the burly man cracked his knuckles and stood face to face with Hilda. She stood two steps above him, but her gaze met his chest without flinching.
"You seem to lack the skill to choose your words," the girl cast a disdainful look at him from above. "Though it smells worse from you."
"Insolent brat!" The warrior raised an enormous fist the size of a battle hammer and brought it down on the princess.
The impact made the tankards on the tables jump, but Hilda didn't budge. She blocked the strike with both hands, halting the fist as she lowered herself to one knee from the force.
"I said I need to see your commander!" Swerving the fist aside, Hilda nimbly leaped and drove her knee into the brute's beard.
The warrior croaked from the sudden blow and fell backward. The tables jumped again from the impact. The giant tried to get up, but the princess pinned him to the ground with a powerful swing of her battle-axe.
After witnessing their mightiest warrior being defeated in just a couple of blows, the rest of the warriors panicked.
Their whispered conversations were interrupted by the rhythmic clapping of hands. A man in his forties, clad in fur-lined armor with silver hair, stood in the corner of the room. He hadn't been there when we entered, but I was sure he had witnessed the entire spectacle.
"Well, well, who's this that barged into my town and dared to knock out my strongest warrior?" The man was undoubtedly the local chieftain, and he didn't seem pleased with what he had just witnessed.
"Perhaps he's strong, but he lacks a little speed and, hmm, intelligence," Hilda brushed off the accusations with disdain.
"You!" Now the chieftain raised his fist, but Hilda didn't seem to attach much importance to it.
The chieftain's fist came down sharply on the princess's head, but at the last moment, he opened his hand and gently patted her on the head.
"Can't change your character, can we?" The man affectionately tousled Hilda's hair.
"You could have given me a warmer welcome, uncle," the girl embraced the old warrior and turned to us. "This is my uncle Brynjolf, my mother's cousin, and we used to go hunting together when I was a child."
"Phew," I sighed with relief. "I thought you were going to make us fight all these soldiers."
"It's never too late for a good fight," the chieftain waved his hand, and the warriors rose from the table at his command.
"No, no, better not," Katrina nervously waved her hands.
"Ha, tourists," the warrior made a dismissive gesture, and the retinue settled back down. "Listen, warriors! We are visited by one of the mightiest warriors of the North! Hilda, daughter of the great jarl!"
"Woo-hoo!" The warriors raised their tankards in unison to toast the princess.
"My father summoned me to the capital. Do you know why it's so urgent?" Hilda asked her uncle.
"He said you're the only one who can resolve this matter peacefully. Don't worry, if he wasn't sure you could handle it, he would never put you in danger."
"I hope you're right."
"Well, don't be sad; you're back home now, and I'll throw a feast in honor of your return," Brynjolf patted the girl on the shoulder and started giving orders to his subordinates.