The Accidental Archmage - Book Five, Edmund Batara [best way to read ebooks txt] 📗

They all woke up early and were having a quick breakfast in the room of the ranger and the einherjar when Aage announced that the jarl and a visitor were coming. The mage could plainly see Aage’s haggard and sorrowful expression. He guessed he was the one tasked with identifying the remains of the warriors rudely awakened from their desecrated slumber.

“My apologies for disturbing you, High Mage. But Jarl Geir wishes an audience together with Jarl Leif of Voss.”

“I hope they don’t mind talking with us as we eat,” said Tyler.

“They’re both warriors at heart and still are, despite the trappings of being a jarl. I’ll show them in.”

Two men entered the room, followed by Aage. The party stood up. Jarl Leif, with his blond hair and mustache, was also a young man, though the thick muscles and tanned skin spoke of continuing exposure to a warrior’s or hunter’s life.

After introductions were made, everybody sat down. Tyler invited the visitors to the early breakfast and was surprised when they accepted.

“Riding and marching hard for several hours gives a man an appetite,” Jarl Leif explained with a chuckle.

“Jarl Leif just arrived with mounted men. The main host was marching toward us, but messengers had been sent directing them to return home,” clarified the other jarl.

“I finally got past my advisers and relatives,” laughed Jarl Leif. “Something convinced them everything depended on Hedmark. Though I believe the arrival of our own scouts had something to do with it. But it appeared I came late to the festivities.”

“Now we have time to rebuild and rebuild fast. I fear Hirdburg would be sorely tempted to look this way again,” Jarl Geir said with disgust. “It’s hard enough fighting jotnar and other creatures at your doorstep. But a stab in the back is worse.”

Jarl Leif slapped the back of the ruler of Hedmark.

“Come on, Geir. You know it’s but a matter of time. Some jarls are already wary of our esteemed High King. Remember that paltry force he sent to Scarburg?”

“Another of his schemes. It’s that adviser of his, that young trader!”

Am I hearing this? A civil war in the offing? And a young trader? Farman? He’s been busier than I thought! Fucking multi-tasker.

But he kept his counsel. What’s the point of telling them Loki’s involved? There will be war if the Trickster God wants one.

“Enough of our concerns, Leif. Jarl Leif here wants to extend his gratitude in person, High Mage. Saving Hedmark also saved his domain. Though as long as he’s here, I better take the opportunity to confer with my friend about the future,” said Jarl Geir. “And as you have heard, a warning too on the future of Skaney. Most of the rulers here don’t readily bow down to threats and schemes. There’s bound to be war, even if Hirdburg is the strongest in terms of armored men and mounted warriors among the domains. Hedmark had more men under arms before but most are bowmen or rangers. And my domain has lost a lot of men during this undead incursion.”

***

The party reappeared in a clearing a few hundred feet from the thick boughs of the beginnings of a woodland area. The mage smiled at the welcome sight. The journey had been long and arduous, and now he was but a short distance from home.

He had advised the jarl they’d be leaving, that other matters demanded their attention. The ruler took it in good stride, even as celebrations were being prepared. Jarl Geir did tell him he’d always be welcome in Skaney and pointed out a wooded hill just on the outskirts of the fortress. That area, said the jarl, now belonged to the High Mage. Tyler could build a keep there, costs to be shouldered by Hedmark. Expressing his thanks, Tyler simply mentioned he’d seriously consider the idea of a keep. Tyndur, though, was ecstatic.

Now, they were half a kingdom away from the killing fields of Hedmark. He glanced around. The expressions on the faces of his companions also reflected what he felt. Tyndur was anxious to get to Maljen and check whether the bards he had arrangements with had spread his ballad. The mage prayed that the skalds fulfilled their part of the bargain, otherwise he’ll have his hands full sorting out the mess a furious Tyndur would leave behind. The ranger intended to travel to Karsfell to visit his son after a day or two in Maljen. Kobu looked forward to visiting the Gothi. Meeting a reservoir of knowledge was how he described the coming visit. The mage hoped the Gothi wouldn’t disappoint. The exile was armed with a letter of introduction and was to wait for the mage at the Gothi’s house.

The agreement was to spend four days by themselves and then meet back at Maljen. From there, they would travel to Scarburg and attempt to meet with the dokkalfr as requested by the deity Freyr. Tyler had grave reservations about that part. There was a chance they’d end up fighting the people they’ve come to save. Assuming they survived the dokkalfr and Ymir, the party would proceed to Kemet to check on Asem and Astrid.

A busy period, observed Tyndur, who also confessed that being around the dokkalfr made him uncomfortable. Even Habrok voiced the same feeling.

“It really would be a strange experience being around the dokkalfr and yet not drawing steel. Habits of long practice are hard to break,” remarked the ranger.

The mage merely remarked that the matter would be discussed in Maljen. He wanted the company to rest and recuperate, even for a few days. Tyler knew the enormous strain they had undergone demanded it – the rigors of traveling through the Barrens, encountering a new civilization, and then arriving at a fortress under siege by the undead. Given his luck, even the visit to Kemet would probably end with another complication. As they started to walk toward the trees, a voice called out his name from behind them.

“First Mage,” it said, a familiar voice full of friendly and pleasing reassurance.

Loki’s voice.

As one, the companions