Heir to the Empire

46. Wraithslayer - Loldirr

The meat was chewy and sweeter than what Loldirr was familiar with. As she apprehensively dunked a piece of bread into the stew, questions of what the meat was, were flooding her mind.

The wind ferociously buffeted against the hut that she was sat in, instantly bringing questions of animals she failed to recollect on her travels. If there were animals in this icy part of the world, she had not seen them.

If it was not for the surprisingly succulent flavours, Loldirr was sure she would have regurgitated the food. The Seer's meal was bizarre, but it was undoubtedly delicious. As Hrok delved into his stew without hesitation, Loldirr decided to do the same.

Another bulky man walked into the hut. His eyes were dark and full of anger, his straggly yellow hair was tied back, revealing a darkened tattoo of strange markings on his cheek, his blonde beard was bushy and unkempt. Sitting down, he stared at all the other men that had previously entered the room, before locking eyes on the young redhead. He seemed to snarl as his attention was drawn towards Loldirr, causing her to return to her food instantly.

There was so much tension in the hut; it felt as turbulent as the relentless wind outside. No one greeted each other, yet everyone, except Loldirr, was familiar with one another.

The warlords of the Fæordic tribes, gathered together as part of the Althingi, to settle their most pressing disputes chaired by the all-wise, all-knowing Seer.

Their anger circled the room like a vulture, yet something felt more pleasant here than the Knight's that had gathered at Lionmane. Here, you knew where you stood; there was no misinterpreted smile or fake greeting; it was evident how each person felt about one another.

No one talked, yet in between every scowl and unspoken word, they all ate from the bizarre, yet, tasty stew provided by the Seer as if it was the one thing that set them together as equals.

Taking one more look around the room, Loldirr sighed. How could she unite these people to fight in a war which has nothing to do with them. Her eyes quickly diverted back to the stew as the aggressive blonde man had his eyes, once again, fixed on her.

The Seer shuffled her way to the centre of the room, humming a strange off-key tune that seemed to grab everyone's attention. "We are gathered here for another Althingi, to discuss matters that are of great importance to the Fæordic tribes."

"I wonder what could be so important that would drive us from our homes and harvests, Seer?" the blonde man's croaking and harsh voice breached through the hut.

"You haven't seen a harvest for many winters! Sigurd Halfhand!" Hrok responded with a hint of sarcasm and anger in his voice.

"No, because my people take from your poor excuse of a harvest instead, Hrok Thjodoflsson." an antagonistic smile bloomed on his face.

Flushing red with anger, Hrok almost instinctively reached for his axe causing Sigurd Halfhand to burst into laughter.

"There is no bloodshed at the Althingi unless you wish damnation on you and your lands." the Seer rebuked.

Watching it all unfold, Loldirr felt like she was in a classroom of children, to unite these tribes would be a monumental task.

"My sincerest apologies, Seer," Hrok said, instantly relieving his axe.

"I have gathered you all here to be introduced to Loldirr, of house Aex-Igh, daughter of Fenrirr the Subjugator. Listen to her words, for I demand them to be heard." the Seer ordered.

Loldirr looked around, intimidated by the battle-hardened men that sat in the room. There were no welcome faces, no smiles or warm greetings, just the anger and bitterness of being cooped up all together in the small hut.