Role

Chapter 4

Athald's confidence proves to be completely misplaced.

He discovers this only accidentally, for, if things had gone according to
Hathuld's plans, he would have died instead.

Absentminded though he is, Athald has always shown a certain skill for
noticing minute details. What cards had already been played in a card
game, for instance, or the fact that the pull cords for the curtains in
his quarters are slightly out of place from where he'd left them.

Curious about this more than concerned, he happens to be staring directly
at the position of his would-be assassin when the man leaps from behind
the curtains and lunges toward him, dagger in hand. Staggering backwards,
by sheer luck he trips over the leg of a brazier, tipping it over and
throwing fire and ash into his enemy's face. Later, Athald would recall
that the man's face was covered by a silver mask, which, unfortunately for
his assassin, had eye holes that did nothing to protect him from the ash.

While the man paws at his eyes, trying to clear away the ash, Athald
regains his footing and grabs the nearest object at hand, which happens to
be a metal poker conveniently placed next to the brazier. This he swings
with all his might at his attacker, catching him with the pointy end
directly in the temple and killing him instantly.

The whole fight can't have taken more than ten seconds.

Still in shock, Athald surveys his surroundings, clears his mind and tries
to think through what he should do next. A man dressed in all black,
wearing a silver mask, lays dead at his feet with an iron poker stuck in
the side of his head and a halo of blood blossoming from underneath him.
He is clearly an assassin, and it seems quite likely that his father's
Karl was party to the treachery.

Were he to go to the Karl, the man might finish the assassin's job and
blame it on the dead man. No. That is not an option. He can see only one
path forward: flee, and go to ground. Not back to his ancestral lands,
however, as it is a near certainty that his father is now dead.

Looking around, he gathers a few things, then slips out the window and
into the night. Following the same road Hathuld did five years prior,
Athald begins his own journey southward.

Whereas his brother departed under the auspices of the Sverd-dagr, for
Athald there is only the Rytingur-nott: night of the dagger.