The tension in the air is almost palpable as Thorfinn and Magnus look at each other. Both their hands are on their weapons as they face off, the crowd around them holding their breath. Eventually, Thorfinn decides to turn away, not wanting to escalate the confrontation further.
"Just like I thought, a coward!" Magnus shouted, his friends joining in with laughter.
Thorfinn felt his blood boil. He immediately turned back around, his eyes blazing with anger. "Am I the coward?" he shouted loudly, making sure everyone watching could hear. "Because I am not the one who hides behind his father's title."
The crowd chuckled, the laughter causing the smile on Magnus' face to drop. "What did you say!" Magnus said, moving forward and getting in Thorfinn's face, putting his hand on his chest. Thorfinn shoved his hand away, not backing up an inch. "You think you're a warrior? Name a single man here who would risk hurting you!"
"They wouldn't be able to touch me. I'm the best warrior in this place!" Magnus laughed with contempt.
"You fool," Thorfinn said, his voice dripping with disdain. "They're afraid of your father, not you. If I were to fight you now, I'd put you on your back today and be buried in the ground tomorrow."
The crowd's chuckles grew louder, and Magnus' anger began to boil over as he looked around, seeing the amusement on people's faces. His fists clenched in fury, but his bravado was faltering. One of his companions put a hand on his shoulder, sensing the tension. "Leave it, Magnus. Let's go," he said, trying to defuse the situation.
Magnus hesitated, his pride wounded, but the growing realization that Thorfinn was right gnawed at him. The fear of his father's retribution was all that kept the crowd from acting, not respect or fear of Magnus himself. He knew he couldn't afford to lose face any more than he already had. With a final glare at Thorfinn, Magnus turned on his heel and walked away, his friends following. Perhaps Thorfinn was right now but that would change, Magnus would make sure of it. Thorfinn watched them leave, his anger slowly subsiding. The crowd began to disperse, the tension easing but leaving behind a sense of unease. Rollo stepped up beside Thorfinn, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Well handled," Rollo said quietly. "But we should be careful. Magnus won't forget this."
Thorfinn nodded, his eyes still locked on the retreating figures. "Good."
Rollo chuckled as he shook his head he turned to Thorfinn, "I'm heading back to the house now. Are you coming?"
Thorfinn shook his head. "I'll come back later. I want to look around some more."
Rollo nodded and squeezed Thorfinn's shoulder. "Be careful. They will be watching your movements."
Thorfinn chuckled. "None of these fools could touch me," he said, making Rollo laugh. They parted ways, Rollo heading back to the house while Thorfinn continued his exploration of Kattegat.
Thorfinn walked through the town, his mood souring as he observed the once lively place reduced to a shadow of its former self. The streets, which used to be filled with laughter and bustling activity, now echoed with an eerie silence. People went about their business, avoiding eye contact, their faces etched with fear and despair. He couldn't imagine allowing his own people to live like this. His thoughts drifted to his own farmstead, where loyalty and support were mutual. The contrast was stark.
As he moved through the town, he saw the effects of the Jarl's tyranny everywhere. The Jarl had the loyalty of his people, but this was how he repaid them – with fear, threats of harm, and hunger. Thorfinn's frown deepened as he continued his walk, eventually reaching the edge of the town. Over his shoulder, he noticed a few people trailing him, but they didn't dare continue as they'd undoubtedly be seen.
Thorfinn headed up the hill, arriving at the cliff where he'd had his first spar with Elijah. He couldn't help but smile, reminiscing about how it felt like a lifetime ago. He picked up a few stones, playing with them in his hand before throwing them off the cliff and watching them sink into the bay below.
He then turned to the large runestones standing tall, overlooking Kattegat. Each stone bore the names of gods and virtues: Odin, Freyja, Thor, Protection, Love, Strength. Thorfinn brushed his hands across the runes, reading them. It was clear that no power remained in the runes – the state of Kattegat attested to that. He took a seat on the ground near the stones, unsheathing his dagger and practising his own rune crafting on a broken log he'd picked up. First, he carved the log down into a figure he tried to resemble Freyja.
As he was carving, he noticed someone approaching him. They didn't seem threatening, so he ignored them. When he looked up, he recognized the woman immediately. Who wouldn't recognize the Jarl's only daughter?
She knelt in front of one of the runestones, pressing her hand to it. Thorfinn went back to his carving. The piece of wood had begun to take the shape of a woman.
"It is strange to see someone up here," Thyri said, addressing Thorfinn.
"It is a peaceful place, a better atmosphere than the grim one that has fallen over Kattegat," Thorfinn commented as he continued to carve.
Thyri moved away from the runestone to the edge of the cliff, looking over Kattegat. "It has been quite grim as of late," she admitted.
"The Jarl will use everything around him to better himself until there's nothing left," Thorfinn said in a grim tone.
"Do you know who you speak to?" the girl asked, turning around.
"It would be strange if I did not recognize the Jarl's daughter," Thorfinn replied.
"Yet you speak of my father so brazenly," she said, crossing her arms.
Thorfinn shrugged. "It's no secret I do not like your father. I'm sure even you can see the situation that's brewing."
This seemed to silence Thyri as she walked back to the runestone and sat down, placing her back against it. "I come here every day at noon and pray to the gods to knock some sense into my father and Ragnar, to settle this dispute peacefully."
"It seems they have not answered you," Thorfinn said.
"Yet there is little else I can do," Thyri replied. "Things are beginning to get worse, and soon I am to be married to Jarl Bjarni."
"Not a handsome man, I take it?" Thorfinn asked.
"I would rather marry one of my father's goats," Thyri replied.
Thorfinn snorted but considered her words carefully. He was sure she didn't have many people to vent to, which was why she was letting it all out now. But the fact she'd let slip she was being forced to marry a Jarl was interesting. Jarl Bjarni... he hadn't heard the name before, but he didn't know much about the Jarls in the surrounding area. But the fact that the Jarl was making an alliance needed to be noted. It would bring more troops to his side and make their situation much worse.
"What is it you want?" Thorfinn asked.
Thyri felt a smile creep onto her face as her cheeks heated up. "I feel a little childish for saying this, but I've always wished to have a romance like from the stories, being found or rescued by a powerful warrior."
"I don't think it's childish. I think we all wish our lives could be like those stories," Thorfinn said.
"Stories are all they will be, sadly. My handsome warrior is an old man smelling of piss with rotting teeth," Thyri said wistfully. Soon, her eyes began to water, and she started to cry. She knew she had no right to be sad; this was her lot in life, as it was for many women. She should just try to make the best of the situation.
She jolted back when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up and saw Thorfinn kneeling down before her. "Do not give up hope. Freyja has not abandoned you yet," Thorfinn said as he handed her the statue he carved.
Thyri thought it was beautiful – the hawk on her shoulder, the long hair, the runes carved onto the bottom of the statue. "What does this rune mean? I've never seen it," she asked, looking at the statue in awe.
"It is a rune I created. Protection and love. I think comfort would be most accurate," Thorfinn replied.
"I hope it will give you comfort on the nights you feel alone," Thorfinn said as he put his hand over the statue, drawing from his magic pool and empowering the rune. He then stood up and left, heading back to Rollo's home. Thyri sat there, basking in the feeling that the statue gave her. She hugged it close to her chest, momentarily forgetting about the pain she was feeling.
Thorfinn made his way back towards Kattegat. As he descended the hill, he noticed two men stepping into his path. They were rough-looking, with sneers on their faces and wooden clubs in their hands. Thorfinn sighed, already weary from the day's encounters.
"What do you want?" Thorfinn asked, his voice even and calm.
One of the men smirked. "We're here to teach you some respect."
Thorfinn cursed internally. He knew this was a setup. If he killed them, there would undoubtedly be someone hidden nearby to testify against him, claiming he had started the fight. He couldn't afford to give the Jarl any more reasons to target him.
The first man lunged forward, swinging his club towards Thorfinn's head. Thorfinn sidestepped easily, the club whistling past him. The second man aimed a strike at his legs, but Thorfinn leapt backwards, avoiding the blow. He used his momentum to push the second attacker into the first, causing them to stumble into each other.
"Is this the best you've got?" Thorfinn taunted, watching as the men regained their footing.
They charged at him again, swinging their clubs wildly. Thorfinn ducked under a swing and moved to the side, dodging the second man's attack. He kicked out, tripping the first man and causing him to fall into the second. The two men crashed into each other, their clubs clattering to the ground.
Thorfinn watched them scramble to their feet, a plan forming in his mind. He uttered a spell under his breath, his eyes flashing gold. "Onbinde þa téage."
Suddenly, the belts holding their trousers snapped. The men's trousers fell to their ankles, causing them to trip over each other in their confusion. They stumbled forward, their clubs swinging wildly as they tried to regain their balance. Thorfinn stepped aside, watching with amusement as they bashed their heads on their own clubs.
The fight was over before it had truly begun. The men lay on the ground, groaning and clutching their heads. Thorfinn shook his head, a wry smile on his lips. He turned and continued his journey back to Kattegat, leaving the two men to nurse their bruises and their pride. As Thorfinn walked, he couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. The Jarl's desperation was becoming more apparent with each encounter.
...
Later that night, the mood in Rollo's house was sombre as Thorfinn gathered everyone to discuss what he had learned. The fire pit crackled, casting flickering shadows on the walls. Thorfinn took a deep breath and began, "The Jarl is looking to make an alliance with Jarl Bjarni from Svealand."
Ragnar's expression darkened. "Jarl Bjarni is a cousin to King Horik and commands nearly 200 men," he stated, the gravity of the situation evident.
A murmur of concern rippled through the group. Erik frowned deeply. "That's a formidable force," he said, worry lining his features.
Torstein leaned forward, shaking his head. "If they join forces, our chances grow slim."
Thorfinn raised his voice, cutting through the growing despair. "It means nothing. The marriage is not yet formed. We need to move our plans forward and act quickly."
There was silence in the room for a moment before Thorfinns eyes hardened. "We could kill Bjarni when he comes to Kattegat," he suggested.
Rollo shook his head. "That's risky. It could cause blame to be placed on us."
Thorfinn countered, "Perhaps, but it's more likely the blame would be placed on Jarl Haraldsson. This is his land, his Jarldom. If he cannot control it, why would anyone want to ally with him?"
Ragnar looked thoughtful. "What if King Horik gets involved?"
"I doubt he would bring his army so far just for a cousin," Thorfinn reasoned. "He'll likely take Bjarni's lands into his own and be done with it."
Silence fell over the room as everyone absorbed Thorfinn's words. Lagertha broke the silence. "It's a big risk."
"It's riskier to allow this alliance to happen," Thorfinn replied firmly.
Ragnar glanced around the room, his gaze lingering on each of his companions. "Who agrees with the plan?" he asked.
One by one, they all said, "Aye."
"Who will do it?" Rollo asked, his eyes locking with Thorfinn's.
"I will," Thorfinn replied without hesitation. "It is my plan, so it is only right that I be the one to carry it out."
Ragnar nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "We will have some scouts keep a lookout for any ships." With everyone in agreement, the conversation then shifted, Ragnar brought up the Thing and feast happening the next day. "We must discuss our presence at the Thing tomorrow," he said, his tone serious.
Everyone looked at him with concern. Erik was the first to voice his worry. "Is it wise to go? The Jarl will be looking for any opportunity to undermine us."
Ragnar nodded. "It is wise. We cannot show weakness. Not showing up will make everyone think the Jarl is in control, and that we are hiding."
Thorfinn leaned forward, agreeing with Ragnar. "He's right. Our presence will show we aren't afraid and might even sway some people to our side. Fear is our enemy as much as the Jarl."
Ragnar turned to Floki. "Floki, make sure to have an escape path mapped out for us in case anything happens."
Floki grinned, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Consider it done, Ragnar."
Ragnar then addressed the entire group. "And remember, limit your drinking. Everyone needs to be clear of mind. We cannot afford any mistakes."
"Good," Ragnar said, a grin spreading across his face. "Now get some rest while I pay attention to my wife." He lifted Lagertha in his arms, making her laugh along with everyone else.
As Ragnar carried Lagertha off, the rest of the group began to settle down for the night. Thorfinn found a spot near the fire and lay down, watching the flames dance. The warmth and the flickering light were comforting, but his mind remained sharp, considering the events to come. Eventually, he closed his eyes, allowing the crackling fire to lull him into a restless sleep. The room grew quiet, the only sounds being the soft breathing of his companions and the occasional crackle of the fire. Thorfinn's last thoughts were of Rebekah and his longing to see her again.
...
The sun had just set, and night cast its dark veil over Kattegat. Despite the darkness, the town was alive with activity, especially around the Jarl's Longhouse, where laughter, cheering, and the clinking of mugs echoed through the air. Inside, Jarl Haraldson sat on his throne, observing the lively scene with a keen eye. He was aware of the shifting mood in the town; his recent actions had not endeared him to the people, but he felt he had no choice. He couldn't risk skilled tradesmen joining Ragnar and bolstering his rival's resources.
Confidence filled Haraldson as he considered his position. He was sure he could outmatch Ragnar in battle with the combined forces of his own men and those of Mikael. Yet, he couldn't afford to appear weak to the surrounding Jarls. A significant loss would invite invasion and the potential collapse of his rule. "Damn Ragnar," he muttered under his breath.
His gaze roamed over the crowded hall, taking in the sight of his supporters seated close by. Mikael and his sons were there, as were Svein, Magnus, and Thyri. But Ragnar and his followers were conspicuously absent. A smile crept across Haraldson's face at this perceived slight.
"Is everything well, my love?" Siggy asked from beside him.
"Everything is fine," Haraldson replied, managing a smile for her benefit.
His smile faded, though, when the door to the hall swung open. Ragnar and his companions strode in, their presence drawing immediate attention. Haraldson's scowl deepened as he watched Ragnar greet people, accepting an offered drink. When Ragnar's eyes met his, the grin on Ragnar's face as he raised his mug infuriated Haraldson. His grip tightened on the arms of his throne, knuckles white with suppressed rage.
Thorfinn followed Ragnar's lead, greeting the hall's occupants and taking a mug of ale. His eyes scanned the room, meeting Thyri's gaze. She smiled at him, a small gesture that he returned. His eyes then found the Mikaelsons, seated near the Jarl. He wanted to speak with them but decided it would be wiser to wait until the feast was nearing its end. As they waded through the crowd, Thorfinn and his companions claimed a table for themselves. They settled in, feasting on the meats and food laid out before them.
Thorfinn kept his eyes and ears open, noting the interactions around him. Ragnar was engaging with various people. Lagertha and Floki kept close, talking to those who supported Ragnar. The feast continued, the air buzzing with conversations and the occasional burst of laughter.
...
Mikael kept his scowl concealed as he glared at Thorfinn from across the hall. The urge to tear the boy apart, to flay his skin and render his flesh, simmered just beneath the surface. Thorfinn's crimes would be paid for in blood—that much Mikael was certain of. His sons Finn, Kol, Henrick, and Niklaus surrounded him. The latter three were enjoying the feast, while Finn remained ever stoic, his face a mask of indifference.
Since the loss of his wife, Finn had not been the same. That loss had been the final nail in the coffin of Finn's spirit, the first being the death of Freya. A familiar pain stabbed Mikael's chest at the thought of Freya. Her death had changed him irreparably. How could he find joy in a world that no longer had her smile, her laugh? Mikael shook away those painful thoughts, refocusing his gaze on Thorfinn. The boy was undeniably handsome, perhaps the most handsome man in Kattegat. It was no surprise he had managed to seduce Rebekah. The girl was young and foolish, easily swayed by pretty faces and sweet words. When he got her back, she would learn the consequences of her actions.
"Is everything okay, father?" Niklaus asked, ever eager to gain his father's praise.
Mikael ignored him, his eyes never leaving Thorfinn. Niklaus followed his gaze and spotted Thorfinn, a smile spreading across his face. "Thorfinn!" Niklaus said loudly, starting to stand up to greet him. But before he could, Mikael's hand shot out, dragging Niklaus back down into his seat.
"Be quiet and eat your food, boy!" Mikael growled, his voice low and menacing.
"Yes, father," Niklaus muttered, his head bowed, his enthusiasm quashed.
The tension at their table was palpable, a stark contrast to the festive atmosphere in the rest of the hall. Mikael's anger radiated off him in waves, and his sons could feel it. Finn remained stoic, Kol and Henrick exchanged uneasy glances, and Niklaus stared at his plate, chastened. Thorfinn, oblivious to the specific thoughts of Mikael, continued to enjoy the feast with his companions.
As the feast continued, the Jarl slammed his mug against his throne, the loud clang reverberating through the hall and catching everyone's attention. The chatter died down, and all eyes turned toward Jarl Haraldson. He stood, a broad smile on his face, though his gaze lingered on Ragnar for a bit too long, a silent challenge flickering in his eyes.
"My friends, I am glad to see you all here tonight," he began, his voice carrying easily over the murmurs of the crowd. "Tonight is a good night, and I'm sure you're all wondering the reason for this feast."
He paused for effect, his eyes sweeping the hall, ensuring he had everyone's attention. "We are on the horizon of forming a powerful alliance," he announced, his voice filled with pride. He gestured to his daughter, who stood and approached the throne, turning to face the gathered crowd.
"My daughter will marry Jarl Bjarni, cousin to King Horik," Haraldson declared. There was a collective gasp of surprise, followed by a murmur of approval. "With this marriage will come more men to raid with and more trade. Our small town will expand and become the largest in the area."
The hall erupted in cheers, people raising their mugs and shouting in celebration. Haraldson allowed the noise to swell before continuing. "Jarl Bjarni will be here within the week, and to honour him and the approaching marriage, we will hold a Grand Hunt."
His eyes scanned the room, landing briefly on Ragnar once more. "As Jarl, I will be insulted if the people who have come to my halls to feast will not take part and share in the happiness of my daughter. The man who brings back the greatest quarry will win a grand prize that my daughter will present to you." Excitement rippled through the hall, the prospect of the hunt and the prize igniting the crowd. Roars of approval and anticipation filled the air, people thumping their mugs on the tables in unison.
Haraldson raised his hands for silence once more, his smile broadening as he prepared to speak again. "This alliance with Jarl Bjarni will strengthen us all. Under my leadership, Kattegat will not only survive but thrive. We have faced many challenges, many of you have have lost loved ones to winter and starvation, but we have overcome them. This is just the beginning." He spoke passionately. "Kattegat will be a place only second to the halls of the gods in Valhalla!!! Under my rule, we will see new heights of glory."
The crowd, already stirred by the announcement of the hunt and the alliance, responded with even louder cheers. Haraldson's supporters pounded their fists on the tables, shouting his name, while others exchanged glances, some filled with genuine admiration, others with wary scepticism.
Thorfinn, seated with Ragnar and their companions, observed the scene with frowns. He could see through Haraldson's facade, recognizing the desperation behind his grandiose promises. This was a man clinging to power, trying to manipulate his people with promises of a brighter future, all the while tightening his grip on them through fear and control. As the cheers continued, Thorfinn's gaze shifted to Thyri. The young woman stood beside her father, a forced smile on her face. Her eyes betrayed her true feelings, a mixture of resignation and sadness. Thorfinn felt a pang of sympathy for her, caught in the middle of this power play.
Ragnar, Thorfinn, and the others sat in a grim silence, their faces set in deep frowns as the surrounding hall erupted in cheers and applause. The stark contrast between the joyous celebration and their own tense mood was palpable. "At least we no longer need to think about whether we can sway anyone to our side," Thorfinn chuckled humorlessly, his voice barely audible over the din. The corners of his mouth twisted in a bitter smile as he took a long drink from his cup.
Ragnar's fingers tightened around his own cup, the wood creaking under the pressure. "The Jarl always was a wordsmith," he commented, his tone laced with contempt. His eyes never left the Jarl, who seemed to revel in the adoration of his followers. Around them, their companions began to argue about what they should do next. Rollo's voice was the loudest, filled with frustration and anger. "We should strike now! While everyone's drunk and distracted!"
Torstein shook his head, trying to reason with him. "And get ourselves killed in the process? We need a better plan than rushing in blindly."
Despite the heated discussions around him, Ragnar remained silent, his gaze locked on the Jarl. Haraldson's eyes met his, and a triumphant smile spread across his face as he raised his mug in a mocking salute. Ragnar's jaw clenched, but he didn't react outwardly. Finally, Ragnar spoke, his voice cutting through the clamour. "The plan doesn't change." The table fell silent, all eyes turning to him. "We destroy the alliance before it can begin."
(AN: Things are heating up, Thyri has been properly introduced. What do you guys think about her? You like her? Should she be saved? Or should I just order 66 her. Anyway the Great Hunt is basically a plan for the Jarl to deal with all his enemies without losing his fighting men. I hope you enjoyed the chapter.)
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