Chapter 27 The Jarl's Feast
The Frozen North, Part IV
The Dragon King did not accompany them into the settlement. That decision had been made unanimously. Mostly by everyone except the Dragon King.
"You are overreacting."
The enormous dragon sat atop a distant mountain overlooking the fjord.
"If I landed inside the town, everything would be fine."
Kev stared at him.
"No."
The dragon frowned.
Moon nodded.
"No."
Gret crossed his arms.
"Absolutely not."
Toivo laughed. The Dragon King looked betrayed. Eventually he agreed to remain in the mountains until they returned. Not because he understood. But because Moon asked. That was apparently enough. So for the first time since leaving the volcano, the companions traveled on foot. The Dragon King remained behind. The marble horses returned. Moon's palanquin emerged once more from silver light. Since daylight still lingered, Moon remained in his smaller form. A child wrapped in white and silver robes. Long black hair almost touched the ground. The sight continued confusing Gret. The giant warrior refused to admit it. Everyone knew anyway. The road eventually brought them toward Jarl's Hold. The settlement looked even larger from the ground. Massive wooden walls protected hundreds of buildings. Smoke drifted from countless chimneys. The scent of roasting meat filled the air. Longships crowded the harbor. Warriors walked openly through the streets carrying axes and spears. Nobody seemed frightened. Nobody seemed impressed. Northmen rarely were. Until they noticed Gret. Then everything changed. The gates opened. Shouts erupted. Several warriors immediately recognized him.
"Ironwolf!"
"Gret Ironwolf!"
"The old wolf still lives!"
The giant warrior groaned. Too late. Dozens of Northmen surrounded him. Back slaps followed. Then wrestling challenges. Then drinking invitations. Then more back slaps. Gret endured it with remarkable patience. Mostly.
Moon watched quietly.
"Popular."
Kev smirked.
"He hates attention."
Gret immediately glared. The crowd laughed. Then someone noticed Toivo The young warrior received curious looks. Whispers followed.Questions. Where was he from? Which clan? Whose son? Why was he traveling with Gret Ironwolf? The questions continued until one old warrior suddenly recognized him. The man froze. His eyes widened. Then he pointed.
"Wait."
Everyone looked.
The old warrior stepped forward.
"You."
Toivo blinked.
The man stared.
"You fought at Nebelheim."
Silence spread. Toivo immediately regretted everything.
The old warrior turned toward the crowd.
"This is the one!"
The crowd erupted.
Toivo regretted everything even more. Apparently stories traveled quickly in the North. Especially stories involving impossible battles. The defense of Nebelheim. The siege. The undead. The demon. The surviving refugees. The stories had spread. And somehow Toivo had become part of them. Warriors immediately demanded details. Children followed him through the streets. Hunters asked questions. Several old women attempted feeding him. Gret found the situation hilarious. Moon looked quietly pleased. Kev never stopped laughing. By sunset they reached the great hall. The largest building in Jarl's Hold. A massive longhouse built from ancient timber. Carved dragons decorated the roof. Runes covered supporting pillars. The smell of food drifted through open doors. The feast had already begun. Inside, hundreds gathered around enormous tables. Firelight illuminated the hall. Music echoed through the rafters. Laughter filled every corner. The Jarl himself sat upon a carved wooden seat. A giant man with braided blond hair and a beard nearly reaching his chest. Scars covered his face. One eye was missing. The remaining eye looked sharp as a spear. The Jarl stood when Gret entered. The hall immediately fell silent. Then the two warriors embraced. The entire hall cheered.
The Jarl laughed.
"Ironwolf!"
"You've gotten uglier."
The hall exploded with laughter.
Gret looked offended.
"You look like a walrus."
The Jarl laughed harder.
Moon blinked.
Toivo quietly explained.
"This is normal."
Moon nodded thoughtfully.
"A strange culture."
Toivo couldn't argue.
The feast began properly. Massive platters appeared. Roasted fish. Venison. Wild boar. Fresh bread. Northern berries. Barrels of ale. Enough food to feed an army. Northmen considered moderation suspicious. The companions quickly found seats. Moon received one beside the Jarl. Mostly because nobody realized he was a god. Everyone simply assumed he was a very strange noble child. Moon seemed comfortable with this misunderstanding. Kev transformed into a black cat and immediately stole fish. Repeatedly. Nobody stopped him. Several warriors actually fed him more. The traitor enjoyed this greatly. As the evening continued, stories were exchanged. Tales of hunts. Battles. Storms. Monsters. Eventually attention returned to Toivo.
The Jarl pointed directly at him.
"You."
Toivo nearly choked.
The entire hall looked over.
The Jarl grinned.
"We hear you've been fighting demons."
Silence.
Then laughter.
Toivo sighed.
The questioning began. How many undead?How large was the demon? Did Gret actually throw a horse? Was it true Kev killed twenty monsters by himself? Did Moon really appear surrounded by thousands of glowing spirits? The last question caused awkward silence. Toivo glanced toward Moon. Moon quietly drank tea. As though nothing unusual had happened.
The Jarl eventually laughed.
"Good enough."
He raised a drinking horn.
"To Nebelheim."
The hall followed.
"TO NEBELHEIM!"
The sound shook the rafters.
Then the Jarl raised the horn again.
"To the dead."
Every warrior stood. Every voice lowered.
"To the dead."
The hall repeated softly. The moment carried weight. Respect. Remembrance. Northmen understood loss. Perhaps better than most.
Then the Jarl smiled.
"And to the living."
The hall erupted once more.
"TO THE LIVING!"
Drinking resumed. Music returned. Laughter followed. The feast continued deep into the night. For the first time in many months there was no battle. No pursuit. No shadows. No fear. Only warmth. Friends. Food. Home. Toivo sat between Gret and Moon. The giant warrior laughed at some terrible joke. Moon watched the firelight dance across the hall. The fairies slept quietly within his shadow. Kev snored atop a pile of furs. Outside, snow began falling gently. Inside, the feast continued. For a single night the road ended. And peace was allowed to exist. Though far to the north, beyond forests and frozen mountains, ancient eyes were already turning toward Jarl's Hold. Watching. Waiting. The hunt had paused. But it had not ended.
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