Sigvid stops before the doors, finding them coated with thick ice and cold mist swirling around his face.
“Hello, Lord Commander.” Gunni jogs next to him as if waiting for the next visitor. “Can I help you with something?” He places himself between Sigvid and the double doors.
“What happened?”
“Nothing, Sir.” He rubs the back of his head. “Would you like a morning meal? Oarr owns the bakery and crafts the most delicious pies.”
Sigvid eyes him skeptically. “Gunni, you are a terrible liar.”
“It wasn’t his fault-”
Before he can finish, Sigvid holds up his hand. “Stand aside.”
His Drengr scrambles out of the way, allowing him to kick open the doors, shattering the crystals.
Ice coats everything from the floor to the ceiling beams, to the food still sitting out from the previous night’s revelry.
But that is not what unsettles him most.
Sigvid’s violent history is extensive, gruesome, and filled with limbs. He suppresses his disgust at the haunting scene before him.
In the longhouse, the people remain eternally frozen in their final moments of joy. Many savor their last meal or gulp mead that will never reach their stomachs. One laughing man hands coins to a topless woman sitting on his lap, her arms eternally reaching for his pouch of gold.
Sigvid carefully strides to Calder’s quarters, stepping over the frosted carpet.
“Who are these people?” He asks Gunni.
“Traders from Steinlund and a few townsfolk.”
Sigvid bursts into the Jarl’s bedchamber, discovering his young mentee, only twenty-five winters old, asleep in the massive bed while clutching a mead bottle. As he steps in, he kicks aside the empty bottles scattered on the floor.
“Avardsson!” His voice vibrates the bottles along the icy floorboards.
When Calder remains unresponsive, Sigvid grabshim by his ankles and pulls him out of bed, dragging the partially conscious Jarl along the floor. He mutters as he walks through the front doors, causing the young man’s head to bounce off the edge of each step.
Gunni runs alongside. “Lord Commander, please stop. This was an accident!”
Sigvid stops on the dock, grabs Calder by his tunic and trousers, and hurls him into the Bay of Souls.
They lean over the pier, waiting to see if he surfaces.
“Gunni.”
“Yes, my King.”
“Clean up the longhouse. I want this to stay between the three of us.”
“Yes, Lord Commander.” He disappears, ever eager to please.
Calder swims to the end of the dock and pulls himself out. He breathes heavily, sitting at the edge. Water drips from his massive frame, collecting on the decking. As Sigvid approaches, he notices it is freezing.
Silence grows between them, and he chooses not to shatter it. He lights his pipe bowl, inhaling a slight reprieve from the edge of his simmering rage.
Finally, Calder rolls his shoulders back. “I never wanted to return.”
Sigvid exhales a cloud of smoke that floats out over the water, but he does not respond.
“Father did everything to get us out of Skalor and away from Queen Lavinia. When you asked me to embark on this mission, I did so without question.” He drags a hand along the back of his head. “I had not been here a week before she found me. As much as my father loathed her, she helped me unlock my powers at a significant cost, even if I refused to return as Prince of Skalor.”
