Role

Chapter 2

It is around the noon hour, five years later, when Hathuld finally
returns. Athald and his father had only received limited reports over the
years, but they understood that he had risen to a position of some power
within the household of the southling whom he served. If only that had
been the extent of it.

The horns sound, long and loud, to announce the return of the Jarl's heir.
They are pure agony to Athald, he being still asleep and very much hung
over. Awake at last, albeit unwillingly, he quickly dresses and stumbles
out of his room to locate the site of his brother's reception.

It is a short reception indeed.

Unbeknownst to them, the southling Harhuld had served was the governor of
a minor Imperial province and a former member of the Blade Sect who was in
the habit of offering the blood oath to whichever of his northmen guards
distinguished himself from the others. That was Hathuld, who, perhaps
swayed by his liege's shared love of discipline, order and the martial
pursuits, was quick to accept.

His father and his retinue are gathered just outside the inner gates of
their fortified residence when Athald finally arrives. Hathuld approaches
slowly, still mounted, before reining in just shy of Alfgeir and his men.
He does not dismount, nor does he show any warmth toward his father.

Instead, he unfurls a scroll and begins to read from it in a rather bored
monotone. Alfgeir is to swear fealty to the Emperor, his kingdom to
become a vassal state, and in exchange he will be allowed to retain his
position as Jarl at the Emperor's pleasure. By the grace of the Emperor,
he is given one day to respond.

Welcome home, brother?